


Dr. and Mrs. Tyler

by Kelkat9



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gun Violence, Historical, Mystery, Regency, Romance, Smut, Telepathic Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On an adventure in 1810, everything goes wrong for the Doctor and Rose.  The Doctor lies unconscious recovering from a gunshot wound as Rose must keep up appearances with their host.  She will need to rein in her 21st century values and attitudes as she tries to fit into this era.  Even as the Doctor recovers, adventure awaits them as a never ending rain storm prevents them from escaping their host and forces them to face new changes in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt for Nine/Rose Fake Married trope. It sort of exploded into a historical multi chapter. Oops. This story takes place after Father's Day and it's not going to comply with canon. Oops again. Although I have done some research into this era, this is by no means perfect so if you have a devout love of things Regency and hate inaccuracy, this is not the story for you. Although this is based on fake married trope, it's also very much a woman out of her time period. Some of the dialog is written purposefully in a way to convey Rose attempting to fit in but not getting it perfect. Rated as NSFW for the last chapter.

Rose barely felt the first cold drops of rain splash against her bonnet. Her ears still rang from the pop of the primitive gun and her heart slammed in her chest at the sight of the Doctor's body collapsing down into the muddy road indented with carriage tracks. She didn't see where the robber went or even remember what he looked like. Her only focus was the dark stain soaking the Doctor's green jumper.

“Doctor,” she shouted, falling to her knees the damp mud soaking through her long blue coat all the way though to her yellow muslin walking dress.

His head lolled to the side as his eyes struggled to open. “Rose,” he gasped before wincing and falling unconscious.

“No,” she cried, gripping the lapels of his leather coat. “Doctor, you have to wake up.” 

There was shouting in the distance but all she could do was stare at the blood seeping from the bullet wound in the Doctor’s chest.

“I’ve got to stop the bleeding and get you back to the TARDIS.” Her hands shook as she looked down at the muddied hem of her dress contemplating how to staunch the bleeding and move him.

A man in mud splattered brown boots, tan breeches and green tail coat ran up to her, his hat long since fallen into the mud. He knelt by her side and examined the Doctor. 

“Your husband has been gravely wounded and requires immediate care.” 

His words pounded the reality of her situation home. It was early spring in 1810 and they’d landed just outside of a small country village in Kent. The Doctor had been shot trying to help a couple who was held up at gunpoint. And the TARDIS was at least three kilometres away. He could die.

Trembling, she tamped down the panic threatening to consume her, reminding herself the Doctor was counting on her. As her mind whirled grasping at a solution, a niggling doubt and guilt taunted her. It was only two days ago she’d lost the Doctor as a result of her changing things to save her father. She’d almost destroyed the whole world. The trust established between them was still tentative and the wound from their falling out still fresh. She had to fix this, couldn’t let him die and needed to prove to him and to herself, that she could be trusted not to cause a paradox or inadvertently destroy a timeline much less fail to save his life.

She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and turned toward the man middle aged man. “We must move him now.”

Rose looked into the man’s eyes and realized she had no choice. She needed help. “Are you a doctor?” she asked in a shaky voice, the irony of the question not escaping her.

“No, but my home is nearby and I’ve sent my man to fetch my physician. Forgive me, for my lack of manners but given your husband’s deteriorating physical condition…” He inclined his head.

She blinked in shock at his assumption they were married. She looked down at the Doctor, now soaked by a light rain falling. A shiver shook through her as her eyes lit on his pale and lifeless form.

“Please help us. I…” She paused her mind scrambling for the right words. The Doctor had teased her as they strolled out of the TARDIS that morning with her in her long empire waist walking gown and blue bonnet with dried pink and yellow flowers. He’d relished telling her about this era, the formality, the refinement and how this world was undergoing changes socially and politically. 

She had to remember this was a different time. Of course people would assume the Doctor was her husband. It would have been inappropriate for a young woman to walk alone with a man she was not married to without a chaperone. She remembered smiling about how romantic some of the old fashioned rituals and traditions were as the Doctor read Sense and Sensibility to her followed by them watching a film adaptation of the novel. The Doctor had commented about Marianne’s behaviour and how it was slightly scandalous for that time period. With a twinkle in his eyes he teased her about impetuous young humans. She’d playfully hit him with a pillow and reminded him he loved that quality. 

It had been a healing moment between them after watching her father die. Both of them had felt things falling back to normal between them. But at that moment, that memory only served to remind her that this era was a time of propriety and strictly adhered to rules of conduct. She needed to be mindful of everything she did or said.

Men dressed in worn trousers and long coats that had seen much wear arrived and lifted the unconscious Doctor up into an open cart. Her kind gentlemen offered his hand and Rose grasped it allowing him to help her to stand. She was grateful as her now rain sodden multi-layered clothing was heavy and awkward to move in. 

“Edward Hensley of Bonnington, at your service.” He bowed formally as if they were meeting in his parlour rather than outside in the rain on a muddy country road surrounded by little more than forest.

His greeting reminded her once again, of the time period and the importance of respecting local customs and exhibiting a demure disposition. She curtsied quickly. “Rose Tyler. Thank you for your help.”

“Mrs. Tyler, I am more sorry than I can say. I am indebted to you and your husband. You both selflessly and at your own peril came to the aid of my dear cousin and her husband as they were set upon by that murderous ruffian. I give you my word Mrs. Tyler, we shall do everything within our power to save your husband.”

Rose stared at him wide eyed, unsure how to respond. Luckily, he assumed she was in shock and ushered her to a waiting covered carriage. Rose wrapped her arms around herself as she sat on the blue crushed velvet seat shivering as the rain pelted the outside of the carriage which ambled along the bumpy dirt road. 

Mr. Hensley knocked on the beige leather interior of the carriage ordering the driver to make haste. He then turned to her, his face softening.

“Mrs. Tyler, may I send word to your family of your husband’s ill state?”

Rose shook her head. “No, we’ve just got each other.” She looked down at her light yellow gloved hands stained with blood and dirt. Her stomach turned and she felt bile rise up. She leaned over and took several deep breaths barely hearing Mr. Hensley shout at the driver again to expedite their journey. The carriage jolted throwing her against the side. She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, Mr. Hensley offered her his kerchief.

She accepted and dabbed at her forehead. “Thank you, Mr. Hensley. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. The Doctor and me, I mean my husband,” she stuttered. “We just arrived and were out for a walk when…” She drifted off and stared out the window.

“I am profoundly sorry. I assure you Bonnington is a quiet village with little crime or unrest. We shall find the man that committed this heinous assault and see him brought to justice.”

Rose nodded. “I just need to see--” She inhaled deeply. “I need to make sure my husband is cared for. He’s everything, the best man I know.” Her voice caught in the words.

“We will arrive at the house presently. Have faith dear lady. Your husband appeared to be a healthy man and of a vigorous constitution. My cousin and her husband both conveyed their admiration for his conviction to stop the bandit and find a peaceful end to his assault on them. A man of such courage and high morals shall surely have God’s blessings.”

Rose felt a giggle bubble up that took everything inside of her to tamp down. She could almost see in her mind how the Doctor would have rolled his eyes at such a comment. But that light moment ended quickly as darker thoughts consumed her. Medicine in this time period was hardly sufficient to heal a gunshot wound much less when the injured person was an alien. That was another point she had to deal with. How would she keep his alien nature a secret from their host and his doctor? The carriage stopped just as a tight feeling in her chest made her pale with the stress of how to keep the Doctor safe.

She stepped out of the carriage, onto a pebble lined drive. The rain was falling steadily now as she paused to stare up at the house before her. It was large but not a mansion by her definition. Although not familiar with the architecture of this time, she imagined this to be typical, a box shaped, two story, beige stone structure with a bright green doorway over which there was an elaborate white portico. 

Mr. Hensley led her inside where a butler in a formal fitted suit coat and breeches met them. A lady’s maid with a white bonnet, her long black dress swishing against the wood floor rushed up to her. 

“Dr. Clark should be here any moment. My valet has some experience with bullet wounds and is seeing to your husband,” Mr. Hensley continued. “Please allow me to extend the hospitality of my home whilst we await his arrival.

“Thank you but I feel I must be by his side.”

Mr. Hensley inclined his head. “Of course, Mary, will escort you and see to your needs.”

Rose followed the young maid who wasn’t much older than herself, with curly brown hair peeking out from beneath her white ruffled hat. As they ascended the dark wooden staircase, Rose calmed enough to notice her surroundings. The interior of the home was formal with dark wood floors with a few conservative blue and white rugs, oil paintings of hunting scenes or portraits of who Rose assumed was family lined the walls which were painted a salmon colour with decorative white plaster mouldings. 

When they reached the first floor, she was escorted into a large bedroom, her eyes were immediately drawn to the four poster bed on which the Doctor lay, blankets were tucked up to his waist, his chest bare and pale exposing the ugly red bullet wound still oozing blood. Rose raised her hand to her mouth as she took in his still form and the shredded swollen flesh toward the centre of his chest. 

The valet, an older man with greying hair looked at her and bowed. “Mrs. Tyler, Dr. Clark should be here presently. I took the liberty of making your husband comfortable and cleaning his wound. It appears to be a clean shot, straight through.”

Rose lowered her hand and focused on her breathing. “That’s good, yeah? I mean that the bullet’s not still inside of him.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler. Clean shots are best. His recovery will depend on how serious the damage is and how well he heals.”

Rose walked over and sat on the bed, running her hand over the Doctor’s cold, clammy forehead, he fingers running through his short cropped black hair. “He’s always bragged about his superior biology.”

“We will all keep him in our prayers, Mrs. Tyler,” Mary promised solemnly standing off to the side with valet.

An older man with greying temples in a black suit and carrying a black leather valise walked in. “Mrs. Tyler,” he said, inclining his head.

Rose stood up and curtseyed, hoping this was proper etiquette. “You must be Dr. Clark.”

He walked over and began examining the doctor, his fingers resting on the Doctor’s neck. The valet, who Rose learned was named Riley, informed Dr. Clark of his observations.

“Mrs. Tyler, I must ask you to step from the room whilst I examine your husband.” He looked at the maid. “Mary, attend to Mrs. Tyler. She has endured quite enough excitement and we do not desire for her to fall ill from the chill or shock.”

“But I need to stay with my husband,” Rose insisted.

“With respect. These matters are often of a gruesome and indelicate nature.”

Rose felt an angry retort at the tip of her tongue. She was no wilting flower and wanted to argue the point but it was apparent from the physician’s dismissive expression that he would question her behaviour if she insisted. She was torn. Part of her wanted to demand she be allowed to stay so that she could protect him and make sure they did him no further harm by some antiquated medical practice. Yet, she also knew she had to appear normal and not raise suspicions by extraordinary requests or attitudes. She looked at the Doctor covered with white and blue coverlets and swallowed hard.

“Dr. Clark, you will inform me at once if his condition changes,” she said slowly in the stilted language. “I…I can’t lose him.”

He looked up from his examinations. “Rest assured, he is in good hands. I will send word to Mary after my examination.”

Rose hated leaving him. Guilt waged a brutal war within her as her stomach cramped and her head pounded. She barely noticed much of anything as Mary led her to an adjoining room or when Mary and another maid helped her to undress. The warmth from the fireplace as they peeled the sodden clothing from her was her only relief. She cursed this time period and their lack of plumbing as she huddled in only a thin white shift near the fire. She would have given anything for quick hot shower.

The maids were soon vigorously rubbing her shoulders arms and legs with warmed linens until her skin had a more rosy hue to it. This was followed by lacing her into a white stays, petticoats and stockings. They pulled a white empire waist gown on her with delicate embroidery along the bodice with a light blue ribbon tied about her waist. This was topped with a matching blue shawl. 

She sat by the fire as they worked on her hair next. Staring into the flames as Mary ran a brush through her damp hair, she couldn’t stop worrying and thinking the worse. What if they realized he wasn’t human? What if he died? What if she caused another paradox and with no father or Doctor there to help her solve it? 

“Dr. Clark is the finest physician in Bonnington. Try not fret, Mrs. Tyler.”

Rose nodded as she felt the maid twist her hair into a chignon and squeezed her eyes shut as iron curling tongs were removed from the fire and used to curl strands of her hair over her ears and around her face. When she heard them set the hot primitive tool down, she released a nervous breath. 

A knock sounded on the door and she heard Mary converse with the valet. “Mrs. Tyler, Dr. Clark prays you attend him to discuss Mr. Tyler’s diagnosis.”

Rose smiled slightly at referring to the Doctor as Mr. Tyler. She would have to tease him about that. A little voice whispered inside of her: “If he wakes up.”

She rubbed at her temples forcing that voice away. Standing up, she wrapped the shawl tightly around her shoulders and held her head up high. No matter what Dr. Clark told her, she would take care of the Doctor. He would wake up and they’d figure out how to sneak back to the TARDIS. Everything would be fine. With those words repeated in her mind, she followed Mary back to the Doctor’s room. 

She swallowed hard as she walked into the room. Her confidence ebbed as once again she was struck with the stillness of this man who she had come to expect in constant motion. She gripped her shawl like a life line.

“Mrs. Tyler, I have done all I can for him. He was most fortunate it was a clean shot and in examination of the bullet, it does not appear to have fragmented. I have cleaned and bound the entry and exit wounds.”

Rose walked over to the Doctor lying beneath the duvets, his head propped up against several fluffy white pillows. 

“But he’s still in danger,” she said as she gazed down at him, noticing his chest was rising and falling but he winced each time.

“His lung was damaged. Infection is inevitable. If he develops a fever, call me and I will bleed him to help cleanse him. I cannot pretend your husband’s condition is not serious. You must prepare yourself.”

Rose looked at him, her eyes wide and filled with tears. She couldn’t believe this was happening. The Doctor couldn’t die and not like this. She looked back down at him.

“He won’t die,” she said in a shaky voice. “I won’t let him.”

“I have asked Mary to keep you supplied with fresh linens and water. Keep watch and send for me if he worsens.”

Rose looked over at him, worry clearly etched on her face. “Thank you Dr. Clark.”

“Trust in God, my dear Mrs. Tyler.”

After she was alone, Rose sat on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on either side of the Doctor’s chest to feel his hearts. One wasn’t beating normally and she pulled her hand back as fear clawed at her. Tears fell down her face which she quickly wiped away. She didn’t have time for that.

Leaning in close his face, she could see him struggling to breathe. “Doctor, It’s Rose. We’re still in Kent. You were shot by that thief you tried to stop but the bullet, it went straight through. The doctor, the local one, he says it was a good thing although it hit your lung so breathing’s not going to be easy.”

She paused and ran a hand across his forehead. His skin still felt clammy.

“Remember all those times you bragged to me about that superior biology? Well time to prove it. You need to put that big brain of yours to work and focus on getting better. I got us somewhere safe but I don’t know for how long. Mr. Hensley seems nice enough but I’m afraid of messing up.”

She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut against the tension twisting inside. “I’m so afraid.” 

She reached under the covers and laced her fingers with his. He inhaled sharply and moaned, his brow furrowing as his head lolled to the side. She squeezed his hand.

“I’m here,” she said, her voice cracking. “Just focus on healing. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we can figure out what to do next and how to get back to the TARDIS. You just…you have to get better. Please, Doctor.”

He grunted once, his brow furrowing before he seemed to relax and his breathing eased. She reached her other hand up to smooth his forward, continuing to promise him she would be there no matter what. Rose didn’t know what time it was. The only light in the room was the fireplace crackling a few feet away and an oil lamp on the table next to the bed in the small sparsely furnished room. The rain continued to patter against the glass pane of the window as Rose sat vigil worrying about the Doctor and the night ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this would be three parts. Yeah that's not happening. Let's try for 4 maybe? This chapter has more angst but it ends on a lighter note.

Mary brought Rose a tray with cold roast duck, bread and butter. “Mrs. Hensley sent this up for you Mrs. Tyler, to keep your strength up.”

Rose nodded. “Thank you, Mary.” But her gaze remained focused on the Doctor as a muscle ticked in his jaw. 

Mary curtsied and paused at the door. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Tyler, but if you need anything, just ring and I’ll be right up. Even if all you need is a cup of tea.”

Rose looked over at the young fresh faced maid whose brown eyes hinted at a far more mature young woman.

“I sat with my mum while she was ill. I know how alone it can feel in the night,” Mary added.

Rose smiled at her and nodded her head. “Thanks, Mary.” 

After the door shut, she felt the shadows in the room press in on her. The crackle and pop of the fire was her only company as she sat by the Doctor’s side. The wind and rain howled through the darkness and the damp chill seeped into the room. She pulled her shawl around her, sipped tea and nibbled on some of the bread and butter. 

After her quick meal, she curled up on the bed close to the Doctor, her fingers drawing patterns in his hair, soothing and promising him she was there. She dozed off occasionally but startled awake at the sound of him moaning or muttering something incoherent under his breath. 

Rose had no concept of how much time had elapsed since they arrived, only that it was dark outside. As she lay next to him, she thought back to their stroll from the TARDIS. The mood had been light and easy going. He was typically enthusiastic about all the things happening or about to happen in the world: Beethoven composing his famous _Für Elise_ ; how King George III would be declared insane; Lord Byron would swim across the Hellespont in Turkey which he said was really due to a certain bet he’d had with him. Rose had rolled her eyes.

Now thinking back on that lighter moment, she remembered how he’d smirked about that bet which he’d won due to an impressive respiratory bypass that provided him with a swimming advantage. She hoped that same advantage would help him now. She laid the back of her hand on his forehead and he flinched. His skin felt warmer. Rose slid off the bed and walked over to a table where Mary laid out a water filled porcelain bowl and some linen cloths. She soaked the white strips in water and began pressing the cool cloth to his head.

“No!” His head thrashed to the side. 

Rose paused, gazing down at him. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach as she watched his face begin to flush and his brow furrow as he fought off some nightmare or dark spectre of his past. Again she felt fear clawing at her wondering what was normal healing for a Time Lord? Was fever how they healed or was this the infection Dr. Clark warned her about? 

She settled down next to him with the water and the flannels by her side and continued pressing the damp cloth to his forehead. He flinched away from her.

“Time Lords, Daleks it doesn’t matter! No, more! It stops right here, right now!” Perspiration beaded his skin glistening in the lamp light as he fought against the blankets.

“It’s all right, Doctor,” Rose said, the pads of her fingers gliding across his burning forehead before she reached for the damp flannel. Her stomach twisted even further as she realized he was fighting the Time War in his nightmares.

“I’ve got to stop this. No choice. They’ll destroy the universe.” He winced and battled against the bedding, getting one arm free and began flailing almost hitting Rose across the face.

Rose grabbed his forearm, surprised at his strength in his weakened state, and struggled to hold him down. She leaned across him, careful to not press on chest wound which was seeping blood through the bandages.

“Doctor, please, it’s just a nightmare. You’re safe with me.” His head thrashed back and forth, her words of comfort unheard in his delusional state.

He grimaced and continued muttering “No, no, no.”

The heat from his skin was like a furnace against the chilled air in the room. Rose looked around trying to find something to help her. There wasn’t much furniture other than the bed, side table, wardrobe and dressing table. But then the yellow floral curtains caught her eye. 

“Maybe it’s time,” he muttered and barked out a laugh. “Everything ends! Even time!”

Rose watched as a tear trailed down his face as he muttered, “I’m sorry.” He grunted and his face flushed red as he started groaning and kicking his legs beneath the coverlet.

She let go of him and slipped off the bed, padding across the cold wood floor toward the curtains. She grabbed some braided cording tied around the heavy fabric and raced back to the bed where she grasped one of his arms as he flailed and grunted. She pulled his arm back and tied it to the bed post. Carefully crawling over him to his other side, she grabbed his other wrist tying it to a decorative finial on the wood head board.

“No!” he groaned, his face contorting in pain as he tugged against the wood frame. 

Tears burned her eyes as she watched him suffer. Her fists clenched as hot tears poured down her face at her inability to help him and fear tore through her again as his skin burned. Insidious doubts whispered how his death would be her fault because she couldn’t get him back to the TARDIS. 

Her nails dug into her palms as she refused to accept he would die. She would save him, she had to. He was the Doctor and important to the universe. With a shuddering breath, a steely determination filled her and she reached for one of the wet cloths. Dabbing at his forehead, she whispered soothing words to him.

“Your safe. The Time War is over and you’re not alone. I’m here.” She rubbed the cool cloth up and down his arms, drawing it down his chest around his bandages. He started to shiver, his teeth chattering as he mumbled some words she didn’t understand but thought she heard her name mixed amongst them.

She set the cloth down and pulled the coverlet up around his chest. Her hands trembled as she watched him suffer through the burning fever. Often he would shout out and a few times it was names she didn’t recognize. “ Romana, Adric, Teagan and Ace.” She wondered who they were and where they were now and if she’d ever get the chance to ask him about them.

Time crawled by slowly as he alternated between burning with fever and shivering with chills. Fear and exhaustion took their toll on Rose. She curled up to his side, lying her head on a pillow near him watching his chest rise and fall, listening to horrible wheezing or gurgling sounds rattling in his chest.  
Tears streamed down her face again as she tried to focus on being strong for him. She reached up and traced her fingers down his arm. 

“You’re going to make it through this. I know you will because I can’t lose you. We’ve been through too much, you and me. I know I mess up and maybe I am just a dumb human but I…” Her voice caught. “I care about you. I know I said something horrible to you back in 1987 but I didn’t mean it. I said I was sorry and you said we were good and you forgave me but I need you to know…” She swallowed hard. “You mean more to me than anything. You’re my Doctor and I--”

The door creaked open. Mary’s bonneted head peeked in. “Mrs. Tyler?” she whispered.

Rose inhaled a deep calming breath before responding. “It’s all right, Mary. I’m awake - didn’t exactly get much rest.”

Mary walked into the room with tea and set her tray down on a side table. She looked up at the bed and her smile fell as she saw the Doctor’s arms tied up. “Oh Mrs. Tyler,” she breathed, shaking her head.

Rose ran the back of her hand across the Doctor’s cheek and he murmured, “Rose.”

She looked at Mary. “He’s better I think.”

“Shall I send for Dr. Clark?” Mary asked, look worriedly from Rose to the Doctor.

“He said he would be back today. I mean is it morning?” Rose asked, rubbing her eyes and looking toward the window where rain still splattered against the darkened glass.

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler. It’s half past five. It would be no trouble to send someone out.” She nervously looked down at the Doctor.

“I think he’s over the worst of it,” Rose confided but could see Mary looking at his bound wrists. “Oh he was thrashing around and I had to find a way to stop him. He’s calm now and his fever broke so I guess I can untie him.” She made short work of the knots and tucked his arms under the covers. 

He winced and mumbled about, “The axionic vortex matrix.”

Rose traced a finger over the shell of his ear and he shuddered. 

Mary focused on clearing the dishes from the prior night. “I’ll fetch you some fresh water then.”

After Mary left, Rose eyed the kettle. Slipping from the bed she poured herself a cup of tea and added a splash of cream. Closing her eyes she inhaled. She needed this. Something normal that reminded her of home. A few sips later and she felt calmer and ready to face the day.

Mary returned with a bowl of water and fresh linens.

“Thank you, Mary.”

“Will there be anything else, Mrs. Tyler?”

Rose shook her head but her stomach growled. She blushed. “Sorry.”

Mary smiled brightly. “I’ll bring something right up to you.” 

After she left, Rose settled on the bed. The Doctor seemed to be calmer. Rose pressed her palm to his forehead and worried as he was still warmer than normal. She turned, reaching for her tea.

“Rose,” he said in a stronger voice.

She turned to find herself the focus of two sleepy blue eyes.

“Doctor, oh thank god! I was so worried about you!”

He winced and smacked his tongue in his mouth. Then his eyes widened and he looked down at his chest. “That stupid ape shot me!”

Rose scooted closer to him. “But you’re gonna be all right. The bullet went straight through. Dr. Clark and Mr. Hensley’s valet cleaned you up and bound the wound. You’ve lost a lot of blood and had an awful fever last night. Is that normal? I mean what should I do? Please just tell me.”

He looked up at her and pulled an arm out from under the covers, groaning.

“Easy. Take it slow,” she reminded him, biting her lip nervously.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around the room and furrowing his brow.

“We’re at the Hensley’s home. It was his cousin and her husband you saved. They brought us here and called their doctor.”

He squeezed his eyes shut before looking at her. “Just tell me you’re not hurt.”

“I’m fine. Just worried about you. I’m not sure what that doctor did. He wouldn’t let me in the room while he treated you.” The last was said with a hard edge in her voice and stubborn tilt to her chin.

He sucked in air and gritted his teeth. “Different social morals. This is regency England. And you’re the fairer sex, a lady, meant to be protected from the nastier side of life.”

Rose sighed. “Somehow it all sounded a bit more romantic in the book.”

“Just a bit,” he acknowledged and scowled. “Not healing as fast as I’d like.”

Rose grasped his hand, her thumb caressing his knuckles in comfort. “Are you kidding me? Last night they were practically telling me to prepare for the worst and now you’re awake and talking to me.”

“Time Lord, me., superior healing ability.” He frowned. “Bloody primitive medicine in this era -- more like witchcraft.” He laid his head on the pillow and turned to her. “Rose, I need a bit more time.”

“You’ve got it, all that you need. I’ll tell Dr. Clark that I’m looking after you.”

“They believe in bloodletting in this era. Don’t let them.”

“I won’t. They’re not going to lock me away from you again.” She smiled down and squeezed his hand. 

“Sorry about this. Promise it won’t be much longer,” he assured her in a raspy voice.

Rose could see his eyelids drooping. “Take as much time as you need. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Stay safe and give me a smile,” he teased.

Rose couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face.

“That’s my brave, Rose,” he said, his voice slurring slightly. “Can always count on her.”

“Don’t know about that,” Rose responded and looked down at his hand relaxing in her grasp.

“I do. You already saved me.”

“Doctor,” she said softly and squeezed his hand as he dozed off.

His eyes shot open. “Don’t let some witch doctor slice me up. I just need time, that’s all,” he said as eyes fluttered shut.

Rose leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Ironic, isn’t it. The Time Lord needs time.”

She fluffed up his pillows and tucked the coverlet around him before curling up next to him. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt sleep claim her.

A knock awakened her. She rubbed her eyes noting the room was lighter and a tray with breakfast Mary must have left sat off to the side. The knock was repeated with more persistence.

“Come in,” she said and looked at the Doctor who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. 

Dr. Clark and Mr. Hensley, dressed in formal attire walked in followed by Mary.

“Mrs. Tyler,” Mr. Hensley said. Both he and Dr. Clark bowed their heads. Rose inclined her own head in greeting.

Dr. Clark strode forward and began examining the Doctor. He hummed and looked at Rose.

“Your husband has an admirable constitution. Mary tells me he fell ill with fever last night?”

Rose slipped out of bed and wrung out stacked the damp cloths next to the white porcelain bowl of water. 

“Yes, he was burning and suffering from nightmares. I had to stop him from hurting himself. It’s why he has marks on his wrists. I tied him to the bed.” She looked at Mr. Hensley. “I…that is to say, my apologies for misusing the drapery ties. I had to think quick.”

“My dear Mrs. Tyler, I am the one to apologize. I should have called on you to assure you did not need further assistance. My servants and I are at your disposal.”

“Oh no, Mr. Hensley, you’ve already been so kind taking us in like this. I didn’t want to impose on your kindness and Mary stopped by to check on me. My husband and I are used to taking care of each other in our travels.” Rose clasped her hands nervously before her, hoping she’d used all the right words.

Mr. Hensley smiled softly exuding a gentleness in his brown eyes. “Mr. Tyler is a very fortunate man to have such a devout and considerate wife. It is my honour and privilege to offer you respite and hospitality.”

He turned toward the physician who was busy examining the Doctor. “Dr. Clark what is your diagnosis for Mr. Tyler?”

“It is truly remarkable, Mr. Hensley. Rarely have I observed a patient persevere from such a serious injury like this. God has a purpose for Mr. Tyler.” His gaze met Rose’s. “Mrs. Tyler, your nursing skills are to be admired.”

Rose blushed and looked at the Doctor. “Thank you but I didn’t do much. It was all the Doctor…I mean my husband.”

“Your husband is a physician?” Dr. Clark asked with raised eyebrows.

“My apologies,” Mr. Hensley added. “Mrs. Tyler did mention that out on the road. In our rush to secure her husband, I’m afraid I did not acknowledge his title.”

“Please Mr. Hensley, you don’t owe any aplogies. I was half out of my mind with worry.” She paused considering her next words. “Dr. Clark, my husband is a doctor but it seems like he’s a doctor of everything. He awakened this morning and gave me instructions to watch over him and allow him time to heal.”

“He awakened?” Dr. Clark asked in an astonished voice and looked down at the Doctor in disbelief.

Rose looked over at the Doctor, her mind scrambling for something to say, some explanation to give that might satisfy Dr. Clark’s scepticism and curiosity. She didn’t remember much about current events in this era except for what the Doctor told her or what was written in the book but she seemed to recall this was a time of expansion and colonization. 

“It’s like you said, my husband has a strong will and I’m sure all our travels and exposure to other cultures and the like have affected us both.”

Dr. Clark nodded his head. “It is true. I have read that travels abroad either weaken the spirit and body or reaffirm one’s purpose. Your husband appears to be fortified from his travels abroad. He is healing as if touched by God himself and I do not at present see what more I can do. If he worsens with fever again, you are to summon me at once.”

Rose nodded her head although internally she was breathing a sigh of relief to be rid of the local doctor, even though she was grateful for his assistance earlier. She couldn’t help but worry about what remedies he would prescribe or the effect of such primitive treatments on the Doctor.

Dr. Clark bowed once more before taking his leave. 

“Mrs. Hensley asked that I express her concern for you and your husband,” Mr. Hensley said. “I know you wish to see to your husband personally, but we would be delighted if you would join us for dinner this evening. Unless, of course, your husband has need of you.” He smiled kindly at her. “We are equally concerned for your well-being as we are for your husband’s.”

Rose smiled genuinely at him. “Thank you, Mr. Hensley. I would like to see how my husband is progressing before I accept your invitation.”

“Of course.” He inclined his head. “Should you require anything at all, please have Mary ask for me.”

Rose nodded her head and thanked him and turned to check on the Doctor. Mr. Hensley paused in the doorway. “Mrs. Tyler, may I assume you and your husband were freshly arrived in town?”

“Yes, we had only just arrived and stopped for a stroll.”

“The weather is most inclement but if you wish, I could send one my servants to fetch your belongings.”

Rose felt her breath catch and her heart slammed in her chest. She knew her cheeks flushed struggling to answer him. 

“Oh, well I…I mean,” she stuttered and looked down before returning her gaze to Mr. Hensley. “This sounds foolish but I don’t know where our trans…carriage is. I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention and tend to rely on my husband for directions.”

She cringed at that excuse but it was like the Doctor said, in this era, she was the fairer sex and most men would accept a woman being unable to describe the location of her carriage. And it wasn’t far from the truth. She wasn’t entirely sure where the TARDIS was. Everything had happened so fast and she’d been so focused on the Doctor, she didn’t pay attention to where Mr. Hensley had taken her.

He nodded his head kindly. “I understand. My wife will arrange for you to borrow some gowns from our daughter. She was married just two months past and left a few belongings behind.”

“And I believe the weather has taken a turn for the worse,” he sighed, his gaze fixated on the rain pelting the window. “It is a day not fit for man or beast outside. It is best we are all content and secure within the walls of this home. Again, please know Mrs. Hensley and I are saddened by your husband’s injury but pleased to share our home with you. I look forward to Dr. Tyler’s recovery and having the opportunity to show him my gratitude in person.”

Rose curtsied as Mr. Hensley bowed and left her, shutting the door quietly behind him. Rose collapsed backwards onto the plush feather mattress and looked over at the Doctor sleeping quietly.

“Do you think they believed me?” She looked up at the ceiling and then scrubbed her face with her hands and groaned. “You need to get well and we need to leave before they suss me out. Or before I lose it. There’s no loo. I had to piss in a pot. A pot, Doctor. And you better not be laughing about this while you’re healing ‘cos it’s not funny. I’ve been worried sick about you, about making some mistake or worse them figuring out both of us are different and calling the police.”

She looked back over at him and scooted closer. Reaching over, she ran her fingertips across his forehead he leaned his head toward her. A warmth filled her as she watched him sleep. His colour was better and he was breathing easier. Part of her began to relax with a comfort that he was healing and would wake up soon. She felt a twinge as she thought about the story she’d told to Mr. Hensley and how easy it was becoming to call the Doctor her husband. 

It was an odd feeling and one she knew she needed to dismiss quickly. That’s not how things were between them. And yet part of her couldn’t ignore these feelings even if they weren’t reciprocated. Maybe it was time to acknowledge to herself how she felt. She fell asleep next to him as her mind struggled over her feelings and how this would affect their relationship.

She was awakened later by Mary.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tyler but it’s past noon and you missed breakfast. You need to keep up your strength.”

Rose smiled and stretched. “Thanks, Mary.” She slipped out of bed and walked to the wash basin to splash water on her face.

The scent of fresh bread, tea and a meat pie caused her to salivate and her stomach to remind her of how little she’d eaten. She smiled at the Mary who uncovered the tray and poured tea for her. Rose pulled a chair over.

“May I bring anything else to you, Mrs. Tyler?” Mary asked.

“Maybe some fresh clothes later today? Mr. Hensley said I could borrow some gowns from his daughter.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler, I’ll see to it before dinner.”

“Rose,” the Doctor called out.

Mary looked at him startled as Rose quickly walked over and sat on the bed next to him. “Doctor, are you feeling better?”

He grunted and tried to sit up. Rose reached for another pillow to prop him up. The Doctor’s gaze lit on Mary.

“Dr. Tyler,” she said and curtsied.

Rose blushed. “Thank you for the meal, Mary. Would you be so kind as to tell Mr. Hensley my husband is awake?”

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler.” She nodded her head and the door shut softly behind her.

“Dr. Tyler?” he asked with an arched brow.

Rose giggled. “Um yeah, sorry guess I didn’t mention it earlier but they sort of think we’re married. I didn’t quite think when I gave them my name that they’d well you know--”

His head thunked onto the pile of pillows. “Fantastic.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I no longer know how many chapters this will be. Started out three then four and now I've put five but I'm still not sure - could be six.
> 
> There is so much etiquette involved in tea. I could probably spend a month researching just that. I'm not doing that LOL. So this was as accurate as I could get it for a fanfic. Thanks for reading!

“Where are my clothes?” the Doctor gruffly demanded as he scowled at the room around him in its simple yet refined elegance. 

“Don’t know. You were undressed when I got here,” Rose replied, her around a mouth full of the meat pie Mary had left. She smirked as his face fell followed by grumblings about primitive cultures not appreciating a man’s coat. She tried to hide her resulting chuckle with a cough.

“Rose, I had things in my pockets that these people shouldn’t…”

A knock sounded at the door. Rose stood up, dabbing her face with a linen cloth and walked over to open it. She curtsied as she greeted Mr. Hensley.

“Mrs. Tyler and Dr. Tyler, I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance,” he greeted formerly as he strode into the room.

The Doctor adjusted the blankets over his exposed skin. “Mr. Hensley, Rose explained how you took us in. Thank you.” He nodded his head. “Few would have extended such hospitality to strangers much less someone shot on a country road.”

“As I conveyed to Mrs. Tyler, it was the least we could do after you intervened on behalf of my cousin and his wife. I know they are anxious to convey their gratitude in person.”

“They were unhurt?” the Doctor asked.

Rose winced. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hensley. I should have asked after them.”

He smiled kindly at her. “Your concerns were directed elsewhere as it should be. And my cousin and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Winston, are quite well, if not shaken.”

“And the shooter?” the Doctor asked, tapping his fingers on the coverlet nervously.

“I am afraid he is still at large. The weather has impeded our efforts to apprehend the ruffian. Although, my cousin provided us with a description that should be of use.”

The Doctor nodded. “He wasn’t a typical thief. Something wasn’t right about him.”

“Yes, my cousin felt the same. But that is not what is important at the moment. First we must see to your recovery.”

“Shouldn’t be much longer and my wife and I don’t want to impose.”

“I assure you, there has been no imposition and I daresay the weather will keep us all confined.” He looked over at the rain battering the glass paned window.

“It’s been raining nonstop since we arrived,” Rose added and frowned. 

“Our English weather is testing our fortitude is it not?” Mr. Hensley said and turned back to the Doctor. “Mrs. Tyler informs me that you have been traveling abroad. It is easy to remember one’s home with fond memories and forget the more precarious nature of our weather.”

As if on cue, thunder rumbled vibrating the windows. “We shall not allow the blustery atmosphere to deter our good fortune at your recovery. Mr. and Mrs. Winston are most anxious to speak with you and I am quite certain would enjoy hearing of your travels. Indeed, we are all keen to become acquainted with the brave gentlemen who courageously came to our family’s assistance.”

“We look forward to it,” Rose inserted with a smile. “Just as soon as the Doctor, my husband, is well enough.”

“I shall convey the news of Dr. Tyler’s recovery to Mrs. Hensley. We shall give prayer of thanks for both of you and hope you may join us for dinner tomorrow evening.”

The Doctor huffed and rolled his shoulders in annoyance. Rose sensed he was restless and did her best to be gracious to their host.

“Thank you, Mr. Hensley. We look forward to it.”

“Good, well then, I should let Dr. Tyler rest.”

“Oh, I was wondering if I could ask one more thing of you,” Rose asked.

“I am at your disposal,” he replied and inclined his head.

“My husband’s travel attire, it was unique and he’s a bit attached to it.”

“I am afraid most of his clothing was ruined by his injury.”

“I’m most concerned about my coat,” the Doctor added. “It’s a family heirloom.”

Rose smiled until her cheeks hurt as a panic fluttered in her chest at Mr. Henley’s narrowed eyes and disbelieving expression.

“My husband’s family is a little unusual. They aren’t ones to settle down in one place for any length of time. I’m afraid that translates to a unique lifestyle and attire. The black leather coat has sentimental value.” 

Rose looked down at her clasped hands before shyly looking back up at her host. She could see his him turning this concept over in his mind and a curiosity mixed with suspicion reflected in his eyes. “I realize it must seem an odd life and strange to an established and highly regarded and respected gentlemen such as yourself. But we travel where we are needed most and have few possessions.”

He nodded his head appearing to accept this answer. “Yes I would imagine traveling abroad fulfilling God’s work leaves little room for material possessions. I will have Riley fetch Dr. Tyler’s coat. And I look forward to hearing more about your travels. Might I ask from whence you arrived?” His voice was tinged with a touch more than curiosity as he directed an expectant look at the Doctor.

“India,” the Doctor responded in a strong unflinching voice. “I am sure you can understand our need for a stretch of the legs on your fine country road after such a long journey.” 

“Indeed,” Mr. Hensley agreed, his shoulders relaxing as he accepted their answer. “I have read much news about colonization of the Far East. What fascinating stories you must have. Well then, I shall leave you to rest and recover until tomorrow night.”

He bade both Rose and the Doctor goodbye and exited. Rose collapsed against the door and looked at a very sullen and annoyed Doctor.

“India?” she asked.

“He was suspicious. Best plausible answer was India and how me and my missus had just returned from doing good for the empire. It had to be a place far away yet something known to him and right now the East India Company is in the news. They’re ploughing through India, building farms and factories; and taking control away from the indigenous population. They’ll make a tidy profit before the government steps in and the land and control is given back to the Indian people.”

“He’s still suspicious though.” She walked over to him and he tugged the blankets up around his waist.

“Feeling better?” she asked and then tacked on, “Husband.” A tongue teasing smile followed as she plopped down on the bed beside him.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his own grin. “Wives are supposed to be demure, respectful and see to their husband’s needs and all that.”

“I supported you. Took care of you all night, didn’t I?” she retorted.

“Yes, you did. Thank you.” 

The wind blew more rain against the window, a chilly breeze sneaking through the cracks. Rose pulled her shawl around her shoulders and shivered.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon,” Rose said, her gaze focused on the grey dismal day outside. “How are we going to keep this up?” 

“By playing our parts ‘til we can leave.” He winced as he sat up straighter and ran his fingers along the edge of the cloth bandage wrapped around his chest.

“You should rest,” Rose said, nervously twisting her shawl as she watched him tense. He was still pale underneath the shadow of scruff shadowing his jaw.

He grunted in response and poked at his bandages. Rose smacked his hand.

“Stop that! You’ll make it worse.”

“It itches,” he answered in a gruff tone. “And it should be healed by now.” He closed his eyes and ran the pads of his fingers over the blood stained bandages. His eyes shot open and pierced Rose with their clarity. “That was no typical bullet.”

Before Rose could ask him what he meant, there was another knock at the door and the valet, Riley, delivered the Doctor’s coat, laying it on a chair.

“Dr. Tyler, Dr. Clark is unable to attend you today. The weather has turned for the worse and the roads are impassable.”

“The storm’s that bad?” Rose asked, again glancing out the window.

“I am afraid so, Mrs. Tyler. Many are comparing this storm to the great biblical flood. We have not seen a comparable storm in Bonnington in more than a generation.” 

The Doctor and Rose shared a knowing look. It was an odd coincidence. 

Riley continued. “As Mrs. Tyler has been informed, I have experience with bullet wounds and assisted Dr. Clark with your injury. We need to change your dressing, Dr. Tyler.” He turned to Rose. “Mrs. Tyler, Mrs. Hensley asked that you join her in the parlour for respite from your nursing duties.”

Rose looked at the Doctor who nodded his head. She turned to Riley. “Please inform me at once if my husband needs me.” She glimpsed a slight smirk quirking the Doctor’s face and had to repress rolling her eyes at him.

Riley inclined his head. “Yes, Mrs. Tyler. Mary is in the hall and will see to your needs.”

Rose nodded but wasn’t sure how happy she was about leaving the Doctor’s side and facing Mrs. Hensley on her own. She cast a concerned look at the Doctor for guidance.

“Go. I’ll be fine with Riley. You’ve barely rested or eaten. It’ll do you good to spend some time with our hostess.”

Rose nodded her head and left with reluctance. Mary escorted her to the room next door to help her change to a different gown, leaving time for her thoughts to wander and consider everything that happened and in particular the bandit on the road. Until then, she’d been focused on the Doctor. But as she thought back through the blur of worry, shock and need to protect him, she had an odd feeling. 

She knew the two of them were jeopardy friendly but the odds of them running into a couple being robbed on a deserted country road were a bit to astronomical. As Mary pulled clothing onto her, she remembered seeing a purse lying on the road. The robber didn’t touch it. He kept demanding something from the couple but she couldn’t remember what. Thunder rumbled outside. The storm - were these things connected? She had a feeling the Doctor thought they were.

#

 

Freshly dressed in a long white empire waist gown with pink and brown flowers embellishing the bodice, Rose followed Mary down the grand wooden staircase. They passed through two formal drawing rooms, one with a grand piano, until they reached Mrs. Hensley in her sitting room lined with windows covered with heavy gold fringed curtains.

Mrs. Hensley rose from her seat before a small table set with a tea service, cakes, scones and crumpets. She was younger than Rose’s mother with a rounded face and dark curly brown hair pinned up with curls around her face in a style similar to Rose. She stepped forward her long butter yellow gown, embroidered with pink roses swishing against her slippered feet.

“Mrs. Tyler, I am so relieved God has answered our prayers and your husband is awake and recovering.” She clasped Rose’s hands in her own in emphasis.

“Mrs. Winston was inconsolable when she arrived. Both she and Mr. Winston expressed their horror at the violence but also that they were ever so grateful for your husband’s intervention.” She tutted and shook her head before leading Rose over to a chair.

“And you, my dear Mrs. Tyler, you have endured unimaginable horror and yet you held fast and remained strong in your husband’s hour of need. I admire your conviction and spiritual strength.”

Rose blushed at the high praise and clasped her hands in her lap as she thought of a proper response. “Mrs. Hensley, you mustn’t make me sound so grand. I was just caring for my husband as any wife should do.”

Mrs. Hensley poured tea into a white tea cup decorated with delicate roses. “Your modesty is a thing to be admired and a sign of grace and character, Mrs. Tyler. Cream?”

“Yes, please Mrs. Hensley. And my husband and I are grateful for your kindness. All of this was so unexpected,” she said as she accepted the tea and set it down on the lace table cloth.

“I keep thinking about what happened.” She looked up from her tea. “I imagine it must be the same for Mr. and Mrs. Winston.”

“My poor, Mrs. Tyler,” she said softly and shook her head. “I assure you there is no cause for concern within these walls. You are most safe. Mr. Hensley will see that the villain that assaulted your husband is apprehended.”

Rose nodded her head and sipped her tea as Mrs. Hensley continued. “Do enjoy the scones. Cook would be disappointed if you did not enjoy her efforts. You must eat my dear, Mrs. Tyler. It would not do for you to fall ill alongside your husband.”

Rose slathered blackberry jam on a scone silencing her groan of enjoyment at the slightly salty, buttery flavour mixed with the sweet berry of the jam. She soon found herself indulging in the cooks pastries whilst engaging in a conversation about gardening, Mrs. Hensley’s hope for grandchildren, a detailed account of her daughter’s marriage and Rose’s observations and opinions on trends in fashion based on her travels.

Rose did her best to nod her head at the right times and remain as vague as possible dipping into her memory about the changes in fashion during the upcoming Victorian era to attempt to satisfy her hostess’ interest in silks versus satins and the trends of the London season. After enjoying her fill of the delicious pastries, tea and Mrs. Hensley’s gossip, she excused herself proclaiming a need for rest and to assure her husband was in good spirits.

She walked away relieved and feeling she had a better feel for the household. Mr. Hensley was a successful businessman involved in the cotton trade both in northern England and the American colonies which recently declared their independence. Mr. Hensley was one of the few fortunate businessmen to maintain trade alliances despite the political upheaval. Mrs. Hensley was from a wealthy family and a relation to the Earl of Cholmondeley. She appeared kind and a typical Regency era woman with her interests focused on her home and family.

They lived in both London and at their country estate. It was pure luck they had not yet returned to London as they were set to leave several days prior to the Doctor and Rose’s arrival. Another coincidence Rose needed to share with the Doctor. Walking back upstairs, Rose paid close attention to her surroundings. 

To her, it all seemed a typical country home for this era. Floral silk wallpaper adorned the walls. Heavy curtains of blue and lilac silk and taffeta with fringes, and trimmings in gold covered the windows. Elegant dark wood furniture and ornate tables dotted the rooms and fireplaces crackled in an attempt to ward off the chill of the storm. Rose paused at the top of the stairs as she contemplated the nonstop rain that was keeping them confined in this house. Her thoughts were jumbled as exhaustion began to take its toll, weighing her down.

She rubbed her eyes and continued up the last few steps when she heard a familiar buzzing and whirring noise which was most definitely not naturally occurring in this time period. She sighed and muttered about cranky impatient Time Lords as she followed the sound down a hall ending at a back staircase where she found the Doctor wrapped up in a thick burgundy dressing gown and slippers frowning at his sonic.

“Does Riley know you’re wandering about?” Rose asked with an arched brow as she crossed her arms.

He aimed the sonic at the stairs, ignoring her. “Tetrahydroxen emissions. Definitely not native or naturally occurring.”

Rose walked over next to him. “So alien, yeah?”

He snorted. “Just a bit.”

“Is it dangerous? Are the Hensley’s all right?”

He turned to her, his eyes traveling from her bodice down her skirts and back to her face lingering a few seconds on her lips. “Nontoxic to humans. How was tea?”

Rose smiled and looped her arm through his and encouraged him back toward their room, flouncing her skirts about her legs playfully. “You know, a bit of gossip, fashion, how to grow the best marigolds and a bit about how I became acquainted with my husband.”

The Doctor scowled. “You need to be careful what you say to her.”

An ache constricted in her chest at his comment and what it represented – a reminder that she almost destroyed the world. And despite their bantering and smiles, that fateful past adventure still hung between them.

“I’m not going to--” She paused and swallowed hard, her voice hoarse as she continued. “I’m not going to muck up again. I know it’s important and I’ve been real careful.”

He turned and tipped her chin up gazing down at her furrowed brow and eyes shining with tears. “No,” he said simply and gazed into her eyes. “You won’t muck it up. And that’s not what I meant.” His face softened and his eyes shut for a moment as he inhaled.

“You’re tired, we should go,” Rose suggested.

“No,” he said and pierced her with a fierce, timeless gaze. “I trust you, Rose. Always have and always will. What happened in 1987 was on both of us. He cupped her cheek, drawing his thumb over her soft skin. “I can’t go back to see my people but I could give you those moments I can never have. And you couldn’t stop yourself from loving your father. A good, brave man just like his daughter. I’m sorry about what happened but I’m not sorry about traveling with you.”

Rose smiled, tears in her eyes for a happier reason. “I’m not either.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, careful to avoid his injury. He held her just as tight and inhaling deeply. They had always hugged and held hands unafraid to connect to each other in small physical ways. To the Doctor, none of it was small. Every smile, laugh, bumped shoulders or the way she ran her thumb over his knuckles was memorized and relished.

After the Time War, he’d hated himself, his life and the universe. The mental and emotional anguish he suffered was almost unbearable. He tried to incinerate and bury the man he once was, the man who tried to make a difference but in the end became just another soldier and killer. Only his TARDIS kept him from ending himself. She’d suffered too and he couldn’t abandon or destroy her as well.

In the end he’d done what he always did and found his way to Earth. It wasn’t home and yet he’d spent the equivalent of a lifetime on that primitive world. He protected it and he wasn’t sure why or denied the real reason behind his actions. It wasn’t until he met Rose that he felt the impenetrable walls around his heart and mind crack. 

Humans never ceased to amaze him but this one with her golden brown eyes and smile that could light a galaxy didn’t flinch from his gruff demeanour, shouting and threats. Over the course of a few short hours of knowing her she proved him wrong as he shouted about stupid apes. She didn’t run; demanded he tell her the truth and listened. She was brave even in the face of something that would leave most humans running and screaming; and she saved him.

The more he knew her, the more he felt himself changing, remembering, grieving in a way he never allowed himself. She reminded him what it was like to be alive and that not everything was bathed in blood and death. There was a light in her that he was drawn to and wanted to wrap himself in and hide away forever. She was, in his favourite word, fantastic.

But it went beyond that. The more he learned about who she was, her life, her mistakes and her determination, the more he wanted to give her all of time and space. He knew he was lost to her in the bunker with the Dalek. A cold feeling still swept through him as he thought of the man he would become if he lost her as he thought he had that day. 

He wouldn’t admit the extent of his feelings. Every time his hearts beat for her, something icy sliced through him reminding him how she deserved better than a murderer like him. But the thought of losing her to some underserving human, raised a dark possessive jealousy. It took all his self-control to repress that baser instinct. He was a Time Lord and above primitive emotions. That is until she smiled and then the cycle began again: warmth, affection, desire, possessiveness, guilt and denial.

She was in his arms, her cheek pressed against his dressing gown after feeling guilt over something that was more his fault than hers. It cut through to his hearts. She’d watched him devoured by reapers, watched her father die and now he’d been shot and she’d been there for that as well. And she persevered, watched over him, protected him and found help. By all rights, she should have worried for herself and being trapped in this era. He’d not even showed her the TARDIS auto recall. 

It was her intelligence, charm, wit and loyalty that destroyed every last barrier he erected against his feelings. Wrapping himself around her was everything. Her warmth and the beat of her heart sustained him and he wanted more. He allowed himself these few moments to enjoy having her to himself, to be his before he had to erect more walls between them and erecting those walls grew more and more difficult.

Rose looked up at him, enjoying the physical intimacy and watching his expression soften as he murmured quietly in alien words.

“Doctor?” she asked, wondering why the TARDIS didn’t translate what he said.

“No more regrets,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Time travel’s not easy. No one gets it right all the time. Except me that is,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Rose snorted and wrapped her arm through his again as they continued walking. “So what did you find out while I was being a good regency wife. You said something about alien emissions.”

“Tetrahydroxen is released when certain metals native to the planet Menos are super-heated.”

Rose pursed her lips. “And why’s it here? I mean what would super heat something like that and is it related to the bloke who shot you and this storm?”

Before he could respond, Mary appeared halting before them, her eyes wide at the sight of Doctor strolling down the hall in his dishevelled state. She recovered and curtsied. Rose plastered a smile on her face knowing that once again, this was a violation of social etiquette. She doubted people of this era took a stroll in their dressing gowns and certainly not injured and looking as ill groomed as the Doctor. Although, Rose was finding the stubble covering his face attractive and had started to wonder what it would feel like against her skin. She cleared her throat and shoved those types of thoughts to the recesses of her mind to ponder later.

“I’m sorry, Mary, Dr. Tyler seemed to feel the need for a wander. I was just returning him to bed to rest. Doctors make the worse patients,” she confided before turning a chastising look on the Doctor who was rolling his eyes and fidgeting.

“Come husband, to bed with you,” she said in an attempt to sound displeased but unable to entirely supress a smile.

After she closed the door behind them she broke out into giggles.

“I think you’re enjoying this wife role,” he complained and walked to the window, pulling his sonic out of his pocket and aiming it outside.

Rose walked over and plucked the long silver instrument from his hands.

“Oi, what was that for?”

“You need rest.”

“Do not,” he replied, crossing his arms.

Rose tucked the sonic into her bosom. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard.

“Rose, you can’t just shove my sonic…”

Rose twirled her skirts around her ankles whilst a tongue teasing grin lit her face. “Yes I can. I’m the wife. I get sonic privileges.”

He stepped forward, his dressing gown gaping open to reveal a white night shirt open at the collar. “Do you now? And what about husband privileges?” he challenged.

Rose tilted her chin up as she faced him. “Wouldn’t want to hurt you now would I? Kind of looks like my husband is still a bit peaked and recovering from his injuries and I’m sure it takes time for an older man to…”

“I’ll show you older,” he answered in a deep voice with a predatory glimmer in his eyes.

“Doctor, no. You said it wasn’t a normal bullet and you need to heal,” she warned but refused to back down as he approached her.

Rose’s heart pounded as he prowled over to her. There was something about the look in his eyes, it wasn’t playful but more heated that made her flush and her toes curl. It wasn’t until he was closer that she noticed a slight bead of perspiration on his forehead. He wobbled slightly.

“You over did it today,” she said and grabbed his arm and guided him to bed. He grinned as she shoved him down.

“Always knew you’d like to be in charge,” he said, grinning at her, his eyes growing glassy.

Rose couldn’t stop her giggle. “You are so out of it.”

“Naw, superior biology, me,” he answered and squinted his eyes. “Why’s it hot? I don’t get hot.”

Rose pulled the coverlet over him still in his dressing gown. “Because you’re still healing. And don’t think we won’t have a conversation about this when you’re well. Doctor, look at me,” she commanded.

He turned to her at the side of the bed. “You said the bullet wasn’t normal and that you’re healing slower. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need medicine?”

A grin lit his face and his face softened. “Nope! Just got to focus on healing.”

Rose frowned. His face was flushing again. She held her hand to his forehead and he hummed as if he was enjoying it. His skin was warm but not the same fever he had the prior night.

“What did that bullet do to you?” she asked.

“Tore a hole through my chest,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, got that. What else?” she asked, worried at how quickly he’d fallen into this loopy state.

“Toxins,” he said as his eyes fluttered shut. “Residue of the bullet leached into my blood, causing an aggressive biologic response to cleanse my body of the toxins.”

“And you knew this and still went for a walk?” she asked, her tone hard and tinged with anger.

“Had to be sure, keep Rose safe. Something’s in the house,” he said before he fell asleep.

Rose shook her head and traced her fingers across his forehead and down his face scraping over the prickle on his jaw. “And to think I thought you might actually--,” she trailed off unwilling to give voice to her thoughts. She’d often misread some of his looks thinking they meant more than they did. He wasn’t human and she needed to remember that. 

A chill made her shiver as she thought of his final words. Something was in the house, something not human and possibly dangerous.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose leaned against the bed post at the foot of the bed as the Doctor fell into an unsettled sleep. He wasn’t feverish or beset by night terrors as he was the prior night. He shifted restlessly under the covers muttering what Rose liked to call techno babble interspersed with something about Villengard and bananas. Sometimes he smiled and once he said her name with a growling sound that left her heart pounding and her face flush. 

She stepped beside him and laid her hand on his forehead. His head rolled toward her as if seeking out more contact. A shy smile lit her face and she looked away as she recalled how he’d walked toward her when she’d knicked his sonic. She was accustomed to his playful flirting with her on the TARDIS. But what happened earlier was different. There was a tension between them that far exceeded playful banter or teasing. She’d felt it and reacted to it in a very primal and physical way. Remembering the way he’d purred her name and taunted her with entendre and a lustful look was something she’d only fantasized about.

She’d almost believed him. Or, at least, wanted to until she remembered he was recovering from being shot. And not just shot but poisoned by an alien bullet. At least, she thought it was alien. He hadn’t been clear on that. That thought led to what he said before he’d fallen asleep-- something’s in the house. She shivered as the rain pelted the window.

The sonic was a cool reminder lying against her breast that they were not the only displaced travellers in this house. A knock sounded on the door causing her to start. Releasing a shaky breath and then chastising herself for being so worked up, she walked over to the door. She shook her head thinking how silly she was being. As if an alien with evil intentions would just knock politely on the door. She hesitated with her hand on the knob. Then again, she’d seen stranger things. She heard Mary on the other side asking for her and quickly plastered a reserved smile on her face.

#

After she reassured both Mary and Riley the Doctor would not be indulging in anymore fever induced strolls through the house, she sat down to enjoy a dinner of quail, bread, peas and roast beets. She felt the stress of the day and her lack of proper rest wear on her. Later, Mary helped her change into a white night gown and led her back to the Doctor biding her a good night’s rest. The Doctor was asleep, resting peacefully.

She double checked the sonic which she hid under a pillow before leaving with Mary. Her nerves were on edge worrying about doing something that would set off warning bells to her hosts or their staff. Mary had directed few curious looks at her already after the Doctor’s stroll and Rose insisting he was fine. There also had been worried looks at her formerly smooth legs and coloured hair. It appeared shaving had not yet become popular with women of this era and neither had hair dye.

Rose blushed as Mary stared at Rose’s just beginning to stubble legs. She’d looked up at Rose, her lips pursed and questions just ready to burst forth. Rose groaned internally but quickly jumped on the Doctor’s story about traveling in India and hoped Mary would accept the tale she wove of embracing the culture where women removed hair from their legs and practiced the art of dying hair. Mary nodded but appeared uncomfortable. Rose squeezed her eyes shut as Mary turned to fetch a hair brush. At that point there was no doubting both she and the Doctor would be subject of much servant gossip.

Now, as she crawled in bed next to the Doctor, her mind was still spinning with uneasiness of what alien presence lay within the house and whether they would be deemed eccentric travellers or tossed out on suspicion of being criminals or lunatics. The Doctor stirred beside her reminding her once again, he needed to be her primary concern. She shifted over to him and he flopped over, his arm encircling her waist. 

“Rose,” he mumbled in his sleep as he nuzzled into her neck.

He was still warmer than normal but cooler than earlier. She stilled as he cuddled up to her. Staring up at the ceiling, she calmed her breathing in an attempt to not read anything into his behaviour. He was ill and not thinking right, suffering from toxins in his system. And that quick scratch of stubble lined jaw as he brushed his lips on her neck was nothing even if it did leave her pulse galloping and heat pooling in places she couldn’t think about. 

She turned her head and watched his face relax. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, younger and less burdened. 

“Rose’s breasts,” he murmured. “Sonic storage.”

Rose felt her chest begin to shake as she tried to hold back giggles. She rolled over to face away from him because not only had he aroused her but with one giggle inducing comment, secured his place in her heart. When he spooned up behind her, his arm tightening firmly around the waist, she knew she was lost. A small voice reminded her that he wasn’t himself and if he was, this wouldn’t happen. But another part of her wondered if maybe there was a chance he did want this but was holding back.

Insecurities reared. How could such an important man, a Time Lord want someone like her? He sighed into her neck and her eyes teared up as she felt emotions burning in her chest. The words curled around her tongue fighting to burst out. She bit her lip to stop them. One day she would tell him, speak the words out loud and if it was too much for him, she’d tell him it didn’t matter. She would always be there for him. He was her best mate, but if he wanted, he could be more.

Until that day, she would enjoy the intense looks, saving the world, the quiet moments, the teasing and subtle flirting. She relished every moment with him even the hard times. She snuggled back closer to him and inhaled that subtle masculine scent of leather, tea and sandalwood. Closing her eyes listening to the rain and wind, she relaxed in his arms. All worries about aliens and storms ebbed away as the comfort of his hearts beat thrummed her to sleep in the safety of his arms.

#

Rose awakened early the next morning buried under the coverlet. Her feet were cold and she shivered tying to bury herself deeper under the blankets. A whirring sound penetrated the sleepy fog of her mind and her eyes fluttered open. Her hand slid across the sheets only to find them cold. 

“Doctor,” she gasped and sat up squinting as she looked around the dark room. Finally her gaze rested on the Doctor sitting in a chair next to the glowing oil lamp huddled over his leather coat with his sonic aimed down at it.

“Morning,” he said in a gruff tone as the blue tip of the sonic pressed down on the worn black leather.

“What are you doing and what time is it? It’s not even light out,” she said in a raspy voice whilst rubbing at her eyes.

“Mending my coat and half past five.”

She heard the whir of the sonic and scooted over across the bed to watch him. His fingers slid along the silver instrument as he hit a new setting and the blue glow reflected on the leather.

“You mean where the bullet hit it? Was it a bullet? You said it wasn’t normal.”

His brow was furrowed as he concentrated as the sonic seemed to cause the leather to almost grow and meld, repairing the small tear. “In this time period, firearms use a flintlock technology propelling round lead balls. What hit me wasn’t just lead.”

Rose nodded, looking him up and down now that she was more awake. He was still wrapped up in his dressing gown and ran a finger over the leather.

“So it was some of that stuff you detected earlier? You said the alien emissions were from heated metal.”

He lifted his head and grinned at her. “Probably an alloy, some hybrid formula mixed with just enough lead to look normal.”

“And it poisoned you. You said your body had to get rid of the toxins. That’s why you were loopy and slept it off. Are you okay now?”

He snorted. “Loopy! Time Lords don’t get loopy.”

Rose grinned and kicked her feet up off the bed, her night gown sliding up her calves. It was good to see him acting more normal. Although, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook for his flirty, woozy behaviour. 

“Yeah well could have fooled me with all that talk about husband privileges, slurring and that adorable smile.”

“Well I am adorable!” he answered and a light lit his eyes before he shook his coat out in front of him almost as a barrier. “Thank you again for looking after me,” he said from behind it.

Rose shook her head. It was so typical of him. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” She frowned as she stared at his coat and propped up her face in her hand. “How’d you find the sonic. It’s not like I left it lying about.”

He stood up, still holding his coat and refusing to look at her. “You hid it under the pillow.”

“Yeah and how’d you figure that out or take it without me waking up.”

He laid the coat over a chair and busied himself at the water basin, running a hand over his newly grown beard. “It was obvious, safest place and you were asleep.”

Rose arched a brow as she stared at his back side. “But I still would have felt it.”

“Is this important?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

She sighed and sat up on the bed scratching her hair through the braids and cloths her hair was twisted around. “I was just worried is all.” She swung her feet down to the floor and immediately curled back in bed. “Blimey, it’s freezing. Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

He walked over past her to the window. “It’s still raining and the temperature dropped. 1810 was the beginning of a weak solar cycle. In the future, they determine it was the reason for colder and wetter than normal summers for the next few years.”

“But this isn’t natural. It’s related to the alien activity. Last night when you were in your superior Time Lord toxin induced high, you said that something was in the house.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is something in the house and it could be affecting the weather. We need to track it down and find out who they are and what they want.”

There was a light tap on the door. The Doctor walked over and opened it startling Mary.

“Oh goodness, Dr. Tyler, you just about scared the life out of me. Wasn’t expecting you to be up and about.” She said as she curtsied.

“Sorry.” He stepped back to allow her to come in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Tyler.”

“Good morning, Mary. Thanks for checking on us. As you can see, Dr. Tyler felt the need to rise early.” Rose glared at him before yawning.

He crossed his arms defensively. “Been in bed for over a day,” he complained.

“You were shot,” Rose reminded him and gestured her head toward Mary. 

With another put upon sigh he walked over and lay on the bed near Rose. “Happy, wife?” His tone was petulant.

Rose ignored him. “I’m sorry, Mary, like I told you yesterday, Dr. Tyler isn’t the best patient. If it’s not too much trouble, a pot of tea would be nice. Also, I think Riley was going to find something for Dr. Tyler to wear to dinner this evening.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler. I’ll let him know. I’ll bring up fresh water and linens for you as well.”

Rose smiled broadly at her. “Thank you, Mary.” 

The maid left and she turned to the Doctor lying next to her fidgeting and tapping his fingers on the coverlet. After a few moments of silence he sighed. “What?”

“You have to rest.”

“I do not!” he retorted, sitting up and adjusting his robe. “I’m ninety five point six four seven percent healed. Good enough to track down an alien menace!”

“Yeah and good enough to make our hosts suspicious. Most people would have died or at least been bed ridden for days. How long before they start questioning you and especially if they find you stalking around their house?”

“I don’t stalk!”

She levelled a disbelieving stare at him.

“Fine, I’ll play nice with the primitives and be the fine if not slightly wounded gentlemen.”

“Just remember one of those primitives shot you,” she reminded him.

“It was an accident.”

“It didn’t look like an accident,” Rose said, her voice shaking slightly as she thought about it.

He was by her side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her against him. “Stop that. It’s done and over with. I’m fine. And I don’t think he meant to shoot me, just got nervous.”

“But why?”

“Maybe he figured out I wasn’t a local? Could be someone on the run or hiding what he was doing.”

“You’re saying he was the alien then or at least one of them if there’s more than one?”

The Doctor nodded. “But why the robbery? It wasn’t money he was after. He could have taken that and run.”

“You’re right. He left the purse on the ground,” Rose mentioned and shivered remembering the Doctor lying in the mud.

The Doctor rubbed his cheek against her hair and Rose smiled. He pulled back when he realized what he’d done. “We have to solve this and quickly. You’re not wrong that we look suspicious and in these times it won’t be long before someone connects the weather to us.”

“But we have nothing to do with that.”

“Won’t matter. It’s out of the ordinary. They’ll look for reasons. They’re not far off from believing in witchcraft and divine intervention. They’ll look for what’s off or different and that would be the robbery and us.”

Rose rubbed at her temples. “Course it’ll be us.” She looked over at him. “Well if you can’t do the investigating, guess I’ll be the one to take a wander around.”

“You? Won’t you be having tea, doing needlepoint and practicing being a good wife?” he said, waving a hand in the air in emphasis.

Rose’s cheeks heated with annoyance. “And you’ll be a good recovering husband and not scaring the maid by wandering around in bed clothes or making Riley stare at you anymore than he already is.”

“But I can’t stay locked up! It’s boring and mind numbing and boring!”

“Doctor,” she warned but was interrupted by Mary. 

After freshening up, tea, more visits from Riley and Mary and a few arguments, Rose went exploring leaving the Doctor scowling at the grey skies outside his window. He hated playing the invalid and was itching to be Rose exploring the house. 

Distractions were few and far between in the tiny bedroom suite. Programing his sonic to run a few more detailed scans was one way to pass the time. But that didn’t take long. He scanned his room, his dressing gown, the window and took readings on the weather. He did a few push ups, wincing when his chest still twinged. A few times he opened the door and peered down the hall only to be met by a servant walking by asking if he wanted something. Gritting his teeth he assured them no and was just wondering about his dear wife.

After his third attempt at sneaking down the hall, Rose returned. He was gruff and sharp with her. Being Rose, she did her best to soothe him while giving him a quick report and how people in the house were skittish and worried about the storm. They would need to be careful. She kissed him on his temple and went back to exploring leaving him in a foul mood.

He paced the room which he now considered a prison and not the fun kind he could escape from and make a mad run for your life dash back to the TARDIS. One thought he couldn’t run away from was Rose. She thought he was inebriated the prior evening, affected by the toxins or so he led her to believe. The truth was the toxins did cause a need for rest and healing but the teasing and prowling around her had been all him. Being in such close quarters, relying on each other with no way to escape at present, made feelings he normally repressed bubble up to the surface.

He paused his pacing. No, that wasn’t accurate. His feelings for her had been on a slow burn since a basement in Cardiff. She made his blood rush through his veins in ways he hadn’t felt in centuries. It was her zest for life, bravery, compassion for others, an ability to adapt and drill him with questions, confronting and challenging him. Their last adventure had cemented it. The conflict and thought of losing her to her father was like a knife in his hearts. Her tear streaked face, regrets and fear at the repercussions of her father’s life and watching him die to save the world and yet still grip his hand showed him a depth he’d seen in few humans. Even in their present adventure, he could still see the reverberations in her time line from that event. 

And he loved her for it. His eyes slammed shut and he swallowed hard as that thought seared into his mind. He loved her and not just the love one had for a species that had offered him a home or an admiration for their tenacity and ability to grow and become better. This was something rooted deep inside of him. It was admiration, respect, desire, need and want. There was no denying seeing her in period costume, her hair bound on her head, looking fresh faced and smiling was eliciting a heady response in him. In this here and now she was his wife. 

That idea would have caused him to run not long ago. But now it warmed him and unleashed those possessive feelings that threatened to rear up whenever he felt someone flirting with her. He walked to the window and let out slow breath. He needed to get control of this. Waking up with her curled up in his arms had battered down his walls and made things even harder. A smirk quirked his face at that thought. 

There was the slightest worry in the back of his mind that spending another night with warm, sleepy Rose in his arms would be the end of any sense of control. And somehow he thought it wouldn’t be just his control. His senses were as superior as he promised Rose and he did not miss the scent of arousal curling around both of them last night. 

The wind hurled drops of rain against the window reminding him there were more serious issues at hand than his relationship with Rose. He needed to focus on the bandit and what happened before he was shot. There was something he was missing…

#

They didn’t see each other again until dinner. Mary took Rose to a dressing room where Rose asked for a sponge bath. Mary left to fetch water as Rose stood by the fire in her underclothes. She rubbed her arms against the chill in the house longing for a shower or bath. She hadn’t bathed in two days and couldn’t erase the feeling that her skin was coated with something unpleasant, be it sweat or smoke from the fire or oil lamps. Thoughts of a hot bath on the TARDIS taunted her.

Mary returned with rose scented water, scrubbed Rose’s exposed skin. It wasn’t the bath of her dreams but she’d take it. At least she would face dinner a little sweeter smelling as well as dressed for the occasion. The one perk of this trip had been all the lovely gowns. A smile lit her face as she walked down the hall to the Doctor, the skirts of her gown swishing about her ankles.

It was a truly lovely dress. Made of a dark pink silk net, embroidered with chenille thread and hand-sewn flower trim, overlaying a white underdress, it made her feel feminine and pretty. Mary had braided and curled her hair high on her head. Her scalp itching and hair in need of a thorough washing, she had to admit Mary performed miracles with unwashed hair.

Riley was exiting as she approached the door to the bed chambers she shared with the Doctor. He bowed formally.

“Is the Doctor dressed for dinner?” she asked.

Riley had an uncomfortable look in his eyes before he cleared his throat to respond. “Dr. Tyler should be dressed presently.”

Rose bit her lip, irritation bubbling up. “I’m sorry, Riley. Dr. Tyler hasn’t felt well and I’m afraid we are all victim of his temper. He has always been independent and doesn’t like relying on other people.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tyler.” He inclined his head before leaving quickly.

Rose fisted her hands and entered the room intent on reminding her stubborn Doctor they were to be fitting in and not annoying the servants. However, the moment she saw him standing tall and impressive in era appropriate attire, words failed her.

He stood before a dressing table, a mirror propped up before him, tying a cravat about his neck, the white silk sliding around his fingers as he wrapped it around his neck and manipulated the fabric. Rose’s mouth went dry and her eyes travelled up from black boots to tight tan breeches outlining lean muscled legs. A long tailed navy coat covered his bum which Rose though was a crime. But the way it was cut, accentuated his lean torso in a way that made her heart pound.

He cursed as he fumbled with the cravat untying and starting over. “Bloody fussy formal dress,” he muttered.

Rose walked closer to him as he slid the silk around his neck again, knotted it and arranged it to his liking. He scowled into the mirror.

Rose blushed as she observed him noticing the gold buttons on his suit coat and the grey waistcoat beneath. She’d never seen him look so formal.

“You gonna stand their gawking or are we going to dinner he snapped before turning toward her and his jaw dropped. “Rose, you look beautiful,” he breathed.

“For a human you mean,” she said softly as she walked over and ran a finger over one of the brass buttons.

“For anyone,” he answered and wrapped his fingers around her wrist stilling her hand. 

She tilted her head up until their gazes met and something clicked between them, an acceptance of their roles this evening and neither was unhappy about it. 

“Never seen you look like this. I like it.” She reached her other hand up and ran her fingers along his now smooth jaw. His nostrils flared in response as he stilled her hand and gently pressed a kiss on her knuckles.

“Mrs. Tyler, would you care to accompany me to dinner?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Rose responded with a tongue teasing smile. “Why Dr. Tyler, I thought you’d never ask.”

Arm in arm they descended down the stairs. “There’ll be six of us at dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Hensley and the couple we helped out, Mr. and Mrs. Winston,” Rose informed him.

“Did you find out anything else on your wander about the house?” he asked, his gaze darting around their surroundings, looking for something out of place.

“The servants aren’t allowed in the wine cellar. It’s kept locked. One of the maids mentioned hearing weird noises coming from down there. Another maid thought it was just the cook’s assistant making out with the footman.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes as the stepped off the stairs. “Anything that might actually help us?”

Rose paused. “I kept feeling like someone was watching me but every time I turned around there was no one there.”

The Doctor squeezed her hand in reassurance but tensed all the same. It could just be fear that was making her see things not there. But this was Rose and she was a seasoned time traveller now. If she said someone was watching her, it was more than likely true and that made things even more dangerous. He was feeling more confident their robber was someone connected to the house and that could mean he was trapped here with them as the storm raged outside.

The butler met them and led them to a sitting room where their hosts and the Winstons awaited them. Rose felt that familiar tingle she got whenever she stepped out of the TARDIS for the first time, that spark of an adventure awaiting them. They looked at each other sharing this moment and preparing for the evening to come as the butler announced them to their dining companions.


	5. Chapter 5

“Dr. and Mrs. Tyler,” the grey haired butler announced to the occupants in the formal drawing room.

The Doctor bowed and Rose curtsied as Mr. Hensley strode forward, dressed in a similar suitcoat to the Doctor.

“Dr. Tyler, we are all relieved at your remarkable recovery.”

“All due to your quick action and my devoted wife’s nursing skills,” the Doctor answered with a charming smile directed at Rose.

“Even so,” Mr. Winston said as he stood by the fireplace. “A chest wound is a serious matter. I dare say we all expected to be consoling Mrs. Tyler instead of enjoying a festive dinner.”

The Doctor directed a piercing look at Mr. Winston. A younger man than Mr. Hensley, with fair hair and a thin frame, he stood a few inches shorter than the Doctor. In his posh green suit coat and white breeches, he stood stiffly with his hands clasped behind him as he examined the Doctor.

After assessing the man, the Doctor quirked a smile. “And I am happy to disprove your dire predictions, Mr. Winston.”

“As am I,” Rose added with a nervous smile. “Not that his recovery wasn’t without frightening moments.”

“Of course, Mrs. Tyler,” Mrs. Hensley said, patting the seat next to her which Rose graciously accepted, arranging her skirts around her. 

“No good wife enjoys watching her husband suffer such torment as Dr. Tyler endured,” Mrs. Hensley affirmed.

Mrs. Winston, a young woman of Rose’s age with light brown hair wearing a conservative light blue gown smiled reassuringly at Rose. “My apologies, Mrs. Tyler. My husband is a forthright man who speaks his mind. We both appreciate your husband’s assistance in our hour of need. We would not want Dr. Tyler to endanger his recovery for social propriety.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Winston,” the Doctor responded. “In my travels, I find coddling an injury only prolongs recovery. I believe in a vigorous constitution, proactive focus on healing and an active mind,” The Doctor continued with manic enthusiasm. Rose bit her lip and looked down into her lap in an attempt to hide her amusement as he practically bragged about his good health .

“An idle mind being the devil’s entry into our lives!” Mrs. Hensley added with zeal. “Quite right, Dr. Tyler and you must share more about your travels and the unusual customs you’ve adopted.”

“Yes, I admit you have piqued our curiosity,” Mr. Winston drawled in a slightly derisive manner.

“Husband, please sit down. You still need rest,” Rose added, playing her role as the concerned wife.

The Doctor scowled. “I’ve been in bed for days!”

“Please,” Rose asked and arched her brow at him.

He sighed dramatically and took a seat near the fireplace before glancing at Mr. Hensley and Mr. Winston. “Wives,” he intoned with an eye roll.

The gentlemen smiled in response.

“I am sure Mrs. Tyler has your best interests at heart,” Mr. Winston drolled in his cultured voice.

“I know she does,” the Doctor replied, gazing at Rose with a glimmer in his eyes before turning back to Mr. Winston. “And you and Mrs. Winston are looking recovered as well. I’m sure when you took your stroll you weren’t expecting to find yourselves the victim of a highwayman.”

“No,” Mr. Winston replied in a curt voice and strolled toward his wife and laid a hand on her shoulder in comfort as her gaze turned downward. “It was an unpleasant and traumatic afternoon.”

“No worries, Cousin, as soon as this god forsaken weather ends, our first priority will be to find and apprehend the cur,” Mr. Hensley said with a nod.

“We are in your debt, Cousin,” Mr. Winston formally acknowledged. 

Dinner was announced and the couples made their way into the formal dining room. As was customary, Rose was seated across from the Doctor and beside Mr. Winston with Mrs. Winston next to the Doctor. Mr. and Mrs. Hensley were seated at each end of the elaborately dressed table. Rose was quite nervous as she looked down at the white porcelain plates etched with a blue floral design on the white linen tablecloth. The utensils were different from what she was used to seeing, the fork with two sharp prongs and a rounder spoon.

Servants placed dishes of various foods on the table and wine was poured. Mr. Hensley led a heartfelt prayer of thanks for keeping them all safe and for the Doctor’s speedy recovery. During Mr. Hensley’s blessing, the Doctor fidgeted. Rose attempted to kick him under the table but instead just barely caressed his knee with her slippered foot. When she dared to glance at him, her gaze met twinkling blue eyes with a hint of something warm lurking in their depths. She quickly stared down in her lap but felt her cheeks heating.

“Mrs. Tyler,” Mr. Winston said, startling her as he offered to ladle soup.

“Thank you, Mr. Winston.” She watched as everyone was served paying attention to table manners and mimicked them. It was almost like learning a dance as everyone held their utensils just so, dipping their spoons into the white veal soup without making so much as a clink against the bowl. When she looked over at the Doctor, he was elegantly eating his soup but his eyes were crinkling with delight at her. Rose felt a smile emerge on her own face, her posture straightened and suddenly she felt the urge to outperform him.

Both were oblivious to their dining companions and the Doctor’s brow furrowed with annoyance as Mr. Winston engaged him in conversation, distracting him from watching Rose.

“Dr. Tyler, I am curious to learn more about you and Mrs. Tyler and how you happened upon us in our hour of need.”

The Doctor set his spoon down and his shoulders tensed as his gaze turned to Mr. Winston. “As I mentioned to Mr. Hensley, we’d just arrived back from India. It was a long trip, six months on a merchant trip, enduring storms around Cape Hatteras, being chased by privateers and harsh conditions on my good wife. I’m sure you can understand wanting to enjoy some quiet times on our home soil.”

“I have heard similar stories, Dr. Tyler,” Mr. Hensley acknowledged with a nod. “Your wife is to be admired. Few women could endure such a treacherous journey and still shine forth with such grace and strength.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Hensley,” the Doctor answered with a touch more lightness in his voice. “I knew the first day I saw Mrs. Tyler she was something special. Not many people have the constitution and spirit to travel like we do.” A dazzling smile lit his faced as he turned to Rose.

“Yes, I imagine returning to civilization after traveling abroad must be a bit of culture shock,” Mrs. Hensley added as her eyes widened as Rose sipped her wine out of turn. 

Rose realized everyone was staring at her and quickly set her wine glass down. When she looked at the Doctor, he looked away quickly and coughed into his hand attempting to stifle his laughter at their clear outrage over such a small infringement upon dinner etiquette. Rose narrowed her eyes at him as anger bubbled up. He knew it was important not to give their hosts any further cause to suspect they were frauds and should have explained what to expect at dinner instead of whinging about resting, healing and fussing with that silk cravat that was giving her lusty thoughts.

She blushed at that stray thought as the silence thickened into a tense atmosphere. She clenched her hands in her lap as the servants cleared away the soup dishes.

Mr. Winston asked her preferences of the remaining courses as conversation turned to politics in India, France and America. The Doctor added a few comments but remained oddly quiet as he observed his dinner companions. Rose caught him glancing at her more than once until his attention was diverted by their host.

“And how did you find India, Mrs. Tyler?” Mrs. Winston asked,

Rose’s mind raced and the only thing she could think about was an illicit foreign film she’d seen with her friend Keisha called Kama Sutra. 

“Hot,” she answered first and smiled. “And different. I mean people are people but they live differently with livestock roaming freely and open markets filled with spices, silks and the like,” she answered quickly her mind wandering to memories of alien markets she visited with the Doctor and hoping she wasn’t too far off in her descriptions.

“Mrs. Tyler likes to wander the markets,” the Doctor added. “She embraces the culture and makes friends where ever we go, a true traveller, she is.”

“It hardly sounds appropriate in such primitive and ungodly lands,” Mr. Winston added with a touch of condemnation in his voice. 

Rose tightened her grip on her fork. “But isn’t that the purpose of traveling abroad, Mr. Winston? To learn and teach and forge relationships. Would we have silk or tea or any number of imported products if we did not venture forth in such a manner? As I understand it, trade is important for the economy as well as providing us with a fine cup of tea.”

“My wife and I feel very strongly about sharing our culture with the locals just as we learn from them about their customs and traditions,” the Doctor added. “Few things are more invigorating than having new land beneath your feet, tasting something you’ve never tried before or finding that common thread of good that binds everyone together no matter where or when they were born.”

“Such a progressive attitude has served our great country well,” Mr. Hensley added. “The world is not as it once was. England must continue to shore up our colonies and forge ahead and follow God’s will to be leaders and spread his glory amongst those who lack his guidance.”

He lifted his glass of wine toward Mr. Winston who inclined his head and lifted his own glass.

“Indeed we are fortunate to have gentlemen such as Dr. Tyler to set forth into the world showing all our English courage and strength.”

“As long as we remember to adhere to our traditions, when setting forth on such adventures,” Mr. Winston reminded with a disdainful sniff. “It is a matter of great concern and topic of discussion in London as we see an influx of foreigners attempting to tempt our people away from our proper English heritage.”

Rose stared at him for a moment before glancing at the Doctor whose eyes had narrowed and jaw clenched. He hated people like Mr. Winston. Rose knew if she didn’t say something soon, the Doctor would unleash a rant that would have them tossed out into the storm with no hope of solving what alien influence was in the house.

“Tradition is important, Mr. Winston but part of our tradition is expanding the empire and absorbing other cultures as they absorb ours. Isn’t that true, Dr. Tyler?” Rose asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He visibly relaxed at her performance. “Very true, Mrs. Tyler. Why just look at the products we enjoy. I’m sure no one is thinking that the sugar we import or that nice slice a cake or candy is destroying the English lifestyle. Or what about French fashion and the lovely gown my wife is wearing which was inspired by the lovely Empress Josephine or the Italian wine we’re enjoying tonight. Exports and imports are only the tip of the iceberg. Ideas and information are spreading, helping everyone to learn and grow and if they’re lucky, spark some new innovation to make life better. Wouldn’t you agree Mr. Hensley?”

He nodded his head. “I admit my complacency in enjoying the economic benefits from the empire’s endeavours at expanding into new lands and I myself have benefitted from ideas from our explorations.” He turned to Mr. Winston. “Due forgive me, Cousin. I know you are a staunch opponent of such things but I cannot discredit Dr. Tyler’s points. I believe we must embrace our natural destiny to expand and colonize whilst, as you so eloquently pointed out, we adhere to our principles and great heritage.”

Rose arched her brow at the Doctor who fiercely pierced a morsel of venison in his annoyance at this discussion. He looked up at her and his ire at Mr. Winston’s prejudice melted away into a smile just for her. “It’s good sharing dinner with people with vision. Isn’t it Mrs. Tyler?” he said emphasizing vision and knowing he annoyed the conservative Mr. Winston.

Rose tried to tamp down her normal broad grin. The Doctor was enjoying teasing their dinner companions. He disliked close minded people and after being shot and stuck in their room for so long, he was itching to have a go at someone. She suspected his efforts would continue to be directed at Mr. Winston who was appearing even more displeased with the conversation. He was the sort of man that would react in fear and violence at anything different from himself. She needed to redirect this conversation and quickly.

“Mr. Winston, I fear Dr. Tyler and I are dominating the conversation. I understand from Mrs. Hensley you and Mrs. Winston were taking a brief holiday in the country and expected to be returning to London with the Hensleys but were delayed. And now with the robbery and the storm, it looks like your relaxing trip has become quite a dreadful outing.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tyler,” Mr. Winston inclined his head. “Mrs. Winston and I appreciate your concern.”

“It is true,” Mrs. Hensley confided, shaking her head. “If Mr. Hensley’s hound, Warwick, hadn’t taken so ill, Mr. and Mrs. Winston would never had been assaulted by that criminal and poor Dr. Tyler would never have been injured.” Mrs. Hensley looked downward, tutting and fretting in her distress.

“Dear Mrs. Hensley, you mustn’t blame yourself. Perhaps it was God’s will that we all meet. And I confess, I for one, am glad to have made the acquaintance of such interesting persons,” Mrs. Winston confided.

Mr. Winston arched a brow at his wife but if she noticed, she ignored his pointed look and smiled at Rose. 

“I believe we have met for a reason. One is not always privy to God’s plan but we all serve his purpose. Mrs. Tyler, meeting you has reminded me we must treat each day with vigour and bravery. Your devotion to your husband and his work abroad is inspiring. It is all too easy to focus on one’s routine in London society and what is expected instead of listening to one’s heart and remembering our vows to our husband.” She directed an adoring look at Mr. Winston.

His face softened as he gazed at his wife and it was the first glimpse Rose had at the man beneath the stern exterior. It reminded her of the Doctor and how he had slowly shared more of himself with her. She looked over at him to find his gaze directed at her.

“I quite agree Mrs. Winston,” she said softly as the Doctor swallowed hard and looked away from her.

“Mr. Hensley, I’m sorry to hear of your hound’s illness. Has he recovered?” the Doctor asked, breaking the mood.

“No and unfortunately the malady spread to all my hounds.” He shook his head. “Such a loss.”

“What happened to them?” Rose asked.

“It is a mystery, I’m afraid. Even Dr. Clark was perplexed. We fear whilst out on a run they ate some poisoned rodent, perhaps a rabbit.”

“Such a tragedy. My dear husband raised many of them from pups,” Mrs. Hensley confided, shaking her head.

The look in the Doctor’s eyes only confirmed what Rose was thinking. Perhaps the dogs did eat something they shouldn’t have and perhaps that thing was no poisoned rodent.

“Our condolences,” the Doctor said with a nod at Mr. Hensley.

“Thank you, Dr. Tyler. Perhaps we might discuss the circumstances with you later and ask your opinion?” Mr. Hensley asked. “A man as well travelled as yourself might have insight we lack.”

“I’d be happy to help,” the Doctor agreed. “It’s the least I can do after you took Mrs. Tyler and I in.”

“You don’t think what happened to Mr. Hensley’s hounds has anything to do with the robbery?” Rose asked the Doctor.

“I doubt you have need to worry, Mrs. Tyler. An ill hound has little to do with a man’s criminal activities,” Mr. Winston said dismissively.

“But the robber was acting odd. Rabies can spread from animals to people. What if those hounds infected someone?”

The rest of the table silenced at her comment. The Doctor tapped his fingers on the table and gazed at Rose with a look of intrigue.

“Dr. Tyler your wife is…well she is quite unusual. Mrs. Tyler, how did you reach such a conclusion?” Mr. Hensley finally asked.

“Mrs. Tyler and I have seen strange things in our travels. One of the things I love about her is her ability to see the details I miss. She’s right, the robber was acting off,” the Doctor responded, whilst sending Rose a warning look.

Mr. Winston paused staring across the room before he tuned to the Doctor. “I agree, he was odd but perhaps this was his first crime,” he said slowly.

“What did he demand? I mean you tried to give him your purse,” Rose asked.

Mr. Winston turned toward Rose. “He demanded our possessions.”

“That’s a strange thing to say. And then the Doctor, I mean my husband and I, interrupted him,” Rose commented, as she puzzled through the events of that day.

“His hands were shaking and he was pale and perspiring,” the Doctor said and met Mr. Winston’s contemplative gaze. “He said he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But he never even took the purse. Even after he shot Dr. Tyler,” Mrs. Winston added. “Why would he do that?”

“Criminals are rarely men of intellect. He knew the severity of his crime and fled to save his life,” Mr. Hensley said, enjoying a bite of pudding.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a look. “You were right. He shot you by accident. He wasn’t looking at killing anyone.” Rose looked back at Mr. Winston.

“He said something else as he ran away but I was so worried about my husband I didn’t listen.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said, staring across the room deep in thought. “He apologized and said he just wanted…”

“What?” Rose asked.

The Doctor looked her in the eye. “He was stuttering and slurring his words.”

“It was foreign,” Mr. Winston said. 

“But he was English. I’m sure of it,” Mrs. Winston said softly, twisting a napkin in her hands, her face paling in distress.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Winston. We’ve upset you with all this talk about criminals.” Rose smiled across the table at here.

“Yes, perhaps we should discuss a happier topic. I fear all this rain combined with recent events has caused us all to suffer from melancholy,” Mrs Hensley announced, scooping up a piece of plum cake.

Conversation turned to the present conflict with France. Rose smiled as she watched the Doctor argue against war with France which Mr. Winston supported. The Doctor favoured diplomacy over an invasion. Mr. Hensley was the businessman who saw the benefits of both approaches. Mrs. Hensley attempted to mediate with a discussion of the latest London gossip about the royal family. This seemed to offend Mr. Winston who looked ready to flee.

Ever the wise and considerate host, Mr. Hensley suggested they retire from dinner. The women returned to the drawing room to discuss feminine pursuits much to Rose’s boredom whilst the men enjoyed a glass of port and discussion of India and the economic benefits derived from colonization. The Doctor was no less miserable than Rose and much more impatient. As soon as was socially acceptable, he excused himself claiming exhaustion from his still recovering injury. Mr. Hensley graciously accepted his excuse and Rose joined him as he walked up stairs.

“Are you all right?” she asked with concern.

He snorted. “All that pomp and classism and discussion of politics practically sent me into a healing coma again.”

“Yeah, sounds more interesting than talking about the latest style worn by Princess Amelia and who was cheating on whose wife in London. So we gonna go snooping tonight?” She bumped her shoulder into his, grinning up at him.

“Is the TARDIS a magnificent time ship?” he teased back.

They quieted as they reached the top of the stairs where they found Mary waiting in the hall. They parted as Mary and Riley readied each of them for bed. Rose returned wrapped in light blue dressing gown to find the Doctor lying across the bed, holding his sonic up in the air. He quickly tucked it away as Mary followed her mistress in with a fresh basin of water. She curtsied and Rose wished her good night. 

The Doctor shifted over and laced his fingers behind his head. Rose cuddled up next to him. “We’re waiting for everyone to go to sleep, yeah?”

He grunted in response, his brow furrowing in that way that indicated he was annoyed at waiting. Rose smiled and traced a finger down his dressing gown. “Come on, it’s not that bad. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

He rolled over toward her and his face softened as he looked at her with her hair braided and tied up revealing her clean, fresh face. 

“What?” she asked as he stared at her. “I wreak don’t I? God, what I wouldn’t give for a proper bath or toilet.”

He laughed. “No, you smell fresh as a rose!” 

“No I don’t. I’m a bit ripe. And my hair needs washing and what I wouldn’t give for a toothbrush and a bit of lip gloss,” she said, licking her lips and wincing.

The Doctor leaned in closer to her until their noses touched. “Could help you with that, if you want?”

“Oh? You got a secret pocket with mouth wash somewhere?”

He leaned in rubbed his nose against hers. “Time Lords don’t need to clean their teeth every day. Got a bit of trick with bacteria killing saliva.”

Rose felt heat flush down her neck as she met his gaze sparking with something more than an offer to help her with dental hygiene.

“Yeah, you offering to share?”

“Could do,” he said as he brushed his lips against hers.

Rose leaned into him parting her lips as his tongue swiped her bottom lip. She slid her hand up his side and around his back as they deepened the kiss. A moan rumbled inside of her as she felt his tongue slid against hers and a slight nip of his teeth as he sucked her bottom lip. His arm held her firmly against his chest and her mind went blank with anything other than how he tasted of wine and some subtle scent of tea and leather.

She lost herself in the feel of him as her bare foot trailed up his toned calf beneath his night shirt and dressing gown. Her heart pounded as she nipped him back and dug her nails into his dressing gown, cursing the fact they had so many clothes between them. Her hips arched into his and that’s when she knew that he may profess to be a more advanced species but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel desire and want like a human man. The thought sent a shiver down her spine and warmth pooled low in her body as she imagined how good he would feel against her skin.

He pulled away abruptly, his hearts thrumming hard in his chest. Rose was still in a lust filled high and blinked at him wondering why he’d stopped. 

He cleared his throat. “Best get some sleep. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

Rose furrowed her brow in confusion. He’d been flirting with her, teasing her, acting the proper husband right down to a glorious snog and now he acted like nothing had changed. 

“Sleep?” she said slowly and watched him.

“Yes, important for humans. You haven’t had much of it and I know how cranky you get if you don’t get proper rest.”

She rolled over and her head plopped against the pillows. “Right. And there’s nothing else you want to talk about?” 

“Nothing else to talk about until we track down our friendly alien and find out what he’s up to.”

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was so typically him. Two steps forward and one step back. “Fine, just don’t go off without me.”

“Would I do that?”

She turned to him. “Yeah, you would. Just remember I know this house and the servants so I know their routines. And don’t forget something was watching me earlier.”

He rolled over facing her. “This time there’ll be two of us.”

She nodded and thought back to dinner. “You mentioned you heard what the robber said but that the word was slurred.”

“Yes and Mr. Winston was right, it was foreign, as in alien.”

“But you understood what he was saying?”

“Yeah, just took me a bit to sort through my memories and bypass my body’s response at being shot.”

“So what was he looking for?”

“K’talkmenos, a sort of key.”

“A key sounds simple enough. Why didn’t he just ask for it?”

“Because it’s not a key in the sense people here would understand. It’s more like a mechanical component, a cog or metal part.”

“But why would Mr. or Mrs. Winston have it?”

“Don’t know. Probably an accident,” the Doctor said as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind working through the problem.

“And what’s the purpose of this key?” Rose asked.

He turned his head toward her and smiled. “Always asking the right questions.”

Rose grinned in return. “Well it has to be important if he’s off robbing people and waving a gun around.”

“If I were to guess, I’d say someone’s got engine troubles.”

“The emissions you found earlier,” she whispered. “So maybe they’re trying to leave but can’t because they’re missing this part but they think the Winston’s have it.”

He shrugged. “Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m too worked up and what if they come here looking for us?”

He sighed. “Then they’ll deal with me. Now go to sleep.”

She wiggled around trying to find a comfortable position several times before he sighed and said, “Come here.”

He wrapped an arm around her until they were curled up together. “Better?”

She hummed, rubbed her cheek on his shoulder and finally relaxed. “Night.”

The Doctor stared up at the ceiling, practiced meditative breathing and performed advanced calculations to distract himself as her body warmed him in ways he would never admit to. All through dinner he found his eyes drawn to her watching her interact with their dinner companions, her cheeks flush when she was angry and how she pursed her lips as she worked through something. His mind had wandered, pondering all the places he’d like to feel her lips. It was wrong for him to think about that with her. She was young and innocent, not meant for the likes of him.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her. Just moments ago, he’d given in to his desire to taste her and feel her wrapped around him. And she had responded in kind. It had been a fantasy realized and he wanted more. It took every ounce of Time Lord discipline to pull back. Even then as she lay beside him, falling asleep, he had urges to finish what he’d started. Thus, he focused on anything he could think of that was not Rose.

Eventually she fell asleep, relaxing against him and leaving him to think about the night ahead. She looked so innocent in her sleep but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ready to stand by his side and face whatever they discovered. He smiled as he thought of how much she’d grown since he met her. It wasn’t that he’d changed her. She’d always been smart and brave. He’d only given her the chance to become the woman he knew was inside of the insecure girl. 

His breath caught at that thought - Rose was a woman. She wasn’t just the impulsive girl her mother thought she was. She’d handled herself like a finely educated and cultured lady of regency England. And she’d kissed him back. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d been annoyed when he’d pulled away. And he loved her. Suddenly that dark condemning voice inside of his head reminding him how damaged he was and how he’d murdered his people was becoming less prominent as the thought of loving her pounded through him. 

He looked over at her and how her mouth opened just slightly, hot breath puffing against his neck and realized he would always feel guilt and pain for what he’d done. But he would feel more regret if he didn’t show her how much he loved her, didn’t make it clear to her anyone around them they were together. 

She was so much more than a companion and maybe these primitives in this time period were smarter than he gave them credit for. They’d assumed Rose was his wife. They saw what he had spent so much time trying to deny.

He smiled as she wrinkled her nose and curled up against him even more than she was. He stared back at the ceiling as she settled down. Rose was his partner and maybe wife wasn’t so far from the truth. He was rather growing accustomed to being called Dr. Tyler. The question was how to proceed? And the even bigger question was how he would stay focused on solving the mystery of the alien mischief in the house without being distracted by his epiphany and especially mixed with memories of what it felt like to snog Rose and how much he wanted to repeat the experience.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this update. I had something I had to get done and then got a bit stuck. Revised estimate. This will be 7-8 chapters in length. Thanks for reading!

Creeping down a dark hall toward the back staircase wearing nightclothes and dressing gowns, whilst on the look-out for aliens was just the sort of heart pounding adventure Rose loved. A yawn escaped and the Doctor looked over at her and made a shushing motion. She rolled her eyes and followed him down the hall lit only by the blue glow of his sonic. 

The house was quiet except for the patter of rain and scrape of tree branches whipping against the windows mixed the slight creak of the house in response to the inclement weather. A chilly draft hit her ankles and swept up her night clothes causing Rose to shiver. She rubbed her arms, once again missing modern conveniences like trainers and jeans not to mention a thick coat. The Doctor was oblivious. She imagined it had something to do with Time Lord superior biology. 

At the moment she wasn’t too pleased with that part of him. In fact she was annoyed that he could snog the pants off of her and then just roll over and pretend it didn’t happen. She knew he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. She’d felt the evidence of it poking her as they snogged. It had been a most pleasing turn in their relationship. That is, until the git rolled over and pretended nothing happened. 

Logically she knew this was not the best time or place to engage in a more physical relationship. But would there ever be a good place? She feared once back in the TARDIS, he’d close himself off. So much had changed between them since they’d intervened in the robbery. It seemed like months instead of days.

She was sure he loved her. He showed her with his teasing, subtle glances and one glorious snog. Her mind wandered to their past trips and conversations and especially after watching her father die. He could have resented her and chucked her out but instead he’d reassured her, trusted her and took responsibility for his part. No one she’d ever dated had ever done so much for her. 

A smile lit her face. She wasn’t dating him except maybe she was. He slowed down and she rested on hand on his back, feeling him solid and real before her. She watched as he opened the door to the back stairs and peered down into the darkness. His intent gaze was not unlike how she was watching him, trying to figure out where they went from the emotional see-saw both clung to in fear of taking that final step to land on one side.

When he said nothing as he stood staring, Rose sighed. “Well?” she whispered.

“Mind the stairs,” he mumbled as he stepped down.

Rose shivered as she felt cool air drifting upward as she stepped onto the creaky wooden staircase. Her heart began to beat harder as they descended. A humming noise vibrated the stairs beneath their feet and the Doctor paused. 

“What is that?” she whispered.

“Something that doesn’t belong here. Come on.”

They descended more quickly reaching the first floor. The Doctor cracked open the door for a quick look. He ducked back in, pressing his palm to Rose’s mouth as she started to ask him what was wrong. Rose stilled and shifted closer to the Doctor as they flattened against the wall. She listened to the sound of soft voices and the soft patter of footsteps not far from where they hid.

Rose tried to move closer to the door listening to the voices but the Doctor held her back with an annoyed looked. She tried talking into his hand, her tongue darting out against his palm. He stilled in response, his nostrils flaring as he stared straight forward refusing to look at her.

She smirked as he slowly removed his hand from her mouth. Deep down, the slightest tingle raced up her spine enjoying how he’d reacted to the slightest flick of her tongue. She filed that little tidbit away for later when she had more time to experiment and test his control.

Eventually the house quieted and Rose leaned into him.

“I think one of the voices sounded familiar,” she whispered. “I’m not sure what they were saying though.”

The Doctor nodded his head, eyes fixated on the door. “One was our not so friendly thief. He and his friend out there are starting to panic.”

“Panic as in blow up everything or panic as in run?” Rose asked, tightening her dressing gown.

The Doctor leaned out the doorway scanning the area. “Fear of being caught and not just by our host.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“They aren’t supposed to be here and they know it. Their presence violates Galactic Law.” 

“So their afraid of what? The space cops?”

“Something like that, yeah. Now come on, last thing we need is the Shadow Proclamation blonding in here.”

He grasped her hand and pulled her after him. They crept through the darkness, the Doctor easily navigated his way down the back hall toward the kitchen. A door creaked and a gust of wind swirled down the hall.

The Doctor raced forward, bolting into the kitchen followed by Rose who smacked into his back when he stopped suddenly.

“You don’t need to be afraid of us. We’re here to help,” he said, staring into a shadowed corner of the kitchen near a stack of firewood.

Rose felt her heart slam in her chest as she slipped around to his side attempting to look friendly and non-threatening. Her gaze fixated on the darkened corner as she attempted to see whatever was hiding. She couldn’t make anything out except she thought some of the shadows moved and she heard a slight rasping noise.

“Hi, I’m Rose,” she said in a soft voice. “Maybe you saw me earlier looking around the house?”

The Doctor stilled and all of his muscles tensed. “We know you’re not from around here and the shooting was an accident.”

Rose heard something whispering softly in an accented voice but she couldn’t make out all the words. She thought her heard it say lost, and leave but that was about it.

The Doctor relaxed as he listened to it. “I’m sorry. We’ll do what we can but you have to leave the humans alone. They wouldn’t understand and they’re already tetchy after the shooting and the bit with their dogs.”

Rose heard more of the whispering. Her grip on the Doctor’s arm tightened. “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

“He’s Monosian. Their vocal chords vibrate at a lower frequency and produce sounds at a lower pitch or vocal range than most humans can hear. In other words, they have to shout at you for you to hear them properly.”

Rose nodded her head. “Why can’t I see him?”

“He’s using a perception filter sort like the TARDIS uses.”

Rose turned back to the corner. “And why are they here?”

“Accident. Ship crashed into a pond not far from here and sank. There were four on board, two died.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her face falling at their loss.

She heard more frantic whispers. The Doctor exhaled and tensed.

“Look, I understand but you can’t just barge in here and expose them to your technology. We can help you with repairs and find your missing part but you have to give us some time.” 

A flash and crack of lightening shook the windows and a side door flew open in a gust of rain. Footsteps pounded down the hall toward the kitchen as another door on the other side of the kitchen cracked open.

The Doctor raced around a large table dominating the kitchen as he chased after the alien who disappeared down a pitch black stair case. Rose followed, hesitating in the doorway as the Doctor disappeared into the shadows below. Grasping the door frame she peered downward at the narrow stairs. A feminine muttering and the patter of slippered feet grew louder. Rose darted down a few steps shutting the door behind her. With one hand sliding against the wall, she descended. 

She heard the cook’s voice and a door slam. Quickening her pace, she reached the cellar floor straining to see through the darkness. A scraping and clicking sound caused her to hesitate,. Visions of rats and insects made her heart thump harder. A grinding noise echoed from deep within the damp and low ceilinged room. 

“Doctor?” she whispered, grasping her dressing gown against the chill seeping upward from the stone floor. A few measured steps forward and her toe caught on something tipping her forward until she fell into a familiar solid frame.

“He’s gone. Slipped away somehow.” The Doctor activated the torch setting as he helped her to stand up and waved it around the room. There were racks of wine, crates and shelves of various jars of pickled and preserved food.

“So there’s another way out then?” she asked as an itch in her nose caused her to sneeze.

“Gesundheit,” he said as he picked up a bottle of wine. “Probably some tunnel to the outside. Chateau Brane Mouton, 1872, not a bad year.” He set it down and flicked a setting on the sonic holding it up in the air. “He disappeared in the back behind some crates probably to find his friend.”

“Are they gonna let us help them?”

“Doesn’t matter because we are,” he said with a grin directed towards her.

Rose moved closer to huddle near him, rubbing her hands on her arms to ward off the cold. “Okay so we have to find the thing they lost and fix their ship, yeah?”

“May not be that simple,” he muttered as he walked briskly over to a side wall and knelt in front of wooden crate. Rose followed and knelt beside him as he tossed packing straw off to the side.

“Fantastic,” he said in an awe laced voice. Within the crate was an iridescent metal object made up of tiny cubes that glowed different colours in response to the sonic.

“That’s not their engine is it?” Rose asked as she stared at the chunky metal object no bigger than microwave.

“No, it’s a component, the brains you might say.”

“They’ve been working on it down here,” she said softly.

“Not a bad repair job he said, poking at it in places. “Could use some refinement.” He aimed the sonic at it and it vibrated, sputtered and stopped.

“It supposed to do that?”

“No, it’s missing the K’talkmenos.”

“The key thing. What’s it look like?” she asked looking around the dusty floor, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell in the air.

“Small, round gold coin-like object. One of them dropped it by accident and they think someone in the house saw it on the ground and picked it up. They detected it in the house but could never find it. They followed the readings to Mr. and Mrs. Winston out on their stroll. Their translator malfunctioned during the robbery.” 

“A hold up doesn’t exactly work when your victim doesn’t know what you’re saying,” Rose commented. “And then we showed up and they got scared.”

“Sort of,” the Doctor said absently as he poked at the device.

“Wait gold or brass?” Rose asked, her brow furrowing as she worked through what this thing was and how the Winstons might have it. The Doctor said coin-like but the alien ignored the purse on the ground.

“Could be brass,” he said running a finger over one rough edge of the device.

“Like a button maybe,” Rose asked. “Like the kind on your coat from last night only it was on Mr. Winston’s? Maybe someone thought that’s what it was. But wait, what about the dogs?”

“Accident. They came into contact with some debris or drank some tainted pond water. The Monosians didn’t mean to harm anyone or thing. They’re just trying to get home.” 

He turned to watch her work out the problem. His eyes were drawn to how she bit her bottom lip and had lines drawing down her brow in thought. A warmth filled him as he observed her under cover of darkness. A strong urge to snog her right there and then was nudging at him. This was them, working together to solve a problem. There was nothing more arousing then feeling her with him in the moment, being alive and brilliant. 

He swallowed hard trying to regain his composure but knew deep down, it was only a matter of time before things reached the point of no return. They were both flirting with cinders smouldering between them and it wasn’t going to take much before they dove into the flames and let the consequences be damned.

Rose was leaning against him, still thinking on a solution. “So they’ve been hanging around the Hensley’s house trying to steal it back. But they could never get close enough. Well if Mr. Winston’s got it, they wouldn’t be able to get near it. He’s not exactly friendly toward anyone he thinks beneath him.”

The door creaked open and the Doctor shot up with Rose beside him. Rose tugged him in a corner as the sonic went dark. A bit of gossip she’d learned the prior day popped into her mind and in a moment of inspiration mixed with certain satisfaction , she grabbed his dressing gown by the lapels and yanked him toward her, noses bumping as she angled his mouth against hers. 

“All right you two, I know you’re down there!” a gravelly female voice called out.

As the stairs creaked as the cook stepped closer , Rose wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s neck, her finger nails grazing into his hairline. The Doctor melded into her, wrapping his arms around her just as tight. Heat flared between them. It was meant to be a ruse but as a moan vibrated in his chest and he sucked on her bottom lip, both of them were distracted from where they were or the fact they were about to be caught.

“Edward Denton and Eliza Farrham you know better!” the cook’s voice continued to berate from the staircase.

When she heard the cook’s chastising voice naming who she knew to be servants, reality seeped through the fog of lust and Rose’s chest shook as she giggled against the Doctor’s mouth. She parted from him and looked up at him scowling and pouting. She shushed him and yanked him down into another snog which he returned with great enthusiasm, his hands wandering down to her bum to cradling her against hm.

The cook huffed and continued to chastise them “Now see here you young heathens, this is your last warning. The cellar is not a place for such things. Do things proper like. Post your banns and make a proper match instead of skulking around in the dark doing the lord only knows what. This is a descent household. You will stop this at once or I’ll be forced to inform Mr. Hensley who I know will toss you out with no regrets!”

Rose nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away and with a twinkle in her eyes, cleared her throat as she attempted to mimic Mary’s accent. “I’m sorry. We won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t and Edward Denton, don’t think you’ve heard the last of this. You should know better than to corrupt an innocent girl!”

The Doctor’s mouth gaped as the cook marched up the stairs muttering about morality and in her day men would marry a girl before corrupting her.

The door closed with a decisive click and Rose burst into loud snorting giggles.

“You think that’s funny?” he demanded, crossing his arms as Rose bent over laughing.

“Yeah, enjoy a good corruption, me,” she finally said, wiping tears out of her eyes.

“I’ll show you corrupting,” he growled into her ear as she backed up.

“Yeah, can’t wait to see that,” she said with a cheeky tongue teasing grin.

As he leaned into her there was a loud rumble and the alien device began vibrating and glowing. He stilled and looked over at it. “It’s not supposed to do that.” 

Rose sighed, looking upwards into the darkness. “Boys and their toys.”

“It’s not a toy, Rose. It’s a sophisticated piece of machinery that does not spontaneously activate or affect atmospheric conditions.”

Rose blew out a puff of air. “Right. Focus on saving the world first.”

“Exactly!” he said with a little too much enthusiasm. 

Rose leaned against the wall watching him mutter about inefficient conductive materials and humidity and corrosion affecting energy flows. A smile crept on her face. As annoyed as she was at once again being interrupted mid snog, she loved seeing him like this. His eyes sparkled as he tried to unravel the problem even as he complained. He was freer like this, less burdened by his responsibilities. A lump formed in her throat as she realized she wanted him to have more moments like this. 

A loud bang sounded from above them, a reminder they weren’t alone.

“Doctor, we need to get out of here before the cook comes back.”

He cursed and yanked his finger back as a spark singed his finger. “I’m not done. You run up to bed. I’ll be up before Mary and Riley show up to set us up for another day of what I’m sure will be riveting conversation about the weather and Mr. Winston’s judgmental witterings.”

Rose smiled in spite of being unhappy about him staying. “And what if the cook or someone else catches you down here?”

“They won’t.”

Rose folder her arms and faced the stairs. “But what if they do? And what about the key? How are we going to get into Mr. Winston’s wardrobe to look for it?”

Arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled into the neck whispering into her ear. “Sorted.”

She turned around in his arms, resting her hands over his hearts. “Sorted how?”

He grinned. “We just need a little distraction.”

Rose arched a brow at him. “A little distraction as in you’re going to do what?”

“You’ll know it when it happens and then you, quick as a Stilgott Jack Rabbit, scamper upstairs and nick a button or two. Easy.”

“Don’t say that,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “To bed with you, Mrs. Tyler. Tomorrow we sort out everyone and then back to the TARDIS.”

Gazing up at him with a soft smile on his face, she couldn’t help but snuggle into his chest. “I don’t like leaving you down here.”

“Rose, it’s just a cellar. Just me, Monosian technology and few bottles of Mouton Cadet. What could go wrong?” 

“Oh god, don’t say that.” She thumped her forehead against his chest before looking up into eyes alight with mischief. With a sigh, she felt a responding smile emerge. “All right, this time. But promise me you’ll be careful so I don’t have to explain my how my nutter husband was found wandering about a dank, dark basement.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted. “Not gonna get caught,” he said with a smile plastered on his face.

Rose felt too tired to argue. “All right. Just don’t be too long. You’re still healing you know.”

“Yes, dear,” he said with a put upon tone before focusing on the alien tech.

Rose left him to it, carefully climbing the stairs and peeking out into the kitchen finding it vacant. She quickly slipped down the hall to the main staircase quietly padding up the stairs until she reached her room. With a sigh she walked in and shut the door behind her, leaning against it.

Aching from the chill of her night time adventure, she pushed off toward the bed looking forward to crawling beneath the covers. By the time she realized she wasn’t alone, it was too late as a hand clamped over her mouth and shoved her down to the floor, pinning her against the cold wood.

“Where is the K’talkmenos?” the man hissed in her ear.

Rose shut her eyes and groaned internally. And she thought the Doctor would be the one in trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter. Errr it's not. My characters sort of hijacked it. So one more to go! Thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed:)

The Doctor knelt on the stone floor, dust clinging to the hem of his dressing gown and focused on the device before him. The sonic glowed as he resonated some of the materials at a subatomic level to refine the substandard primitive elements used to repair the damage. He was impressed by the Monosian repairs. They were innovative given the circumstances and materials available in this place and time period. They just needed a little jiggery pokery. He paused as he ran another scan to check his improvements. 

The Monosians were on edge. Every move they’d made since their attempted robbery was based on fear and desperation. It was dangerous and not just for them. They wanted to leave this place and mourn the loss of their people properly. Thus, a certain irrationality was overtaking them. The Doctor understood those feelings more than he wanted to admit. He was feeling desperate as well. His desperation was more directed at feelings intensifying for Rose. The scent of the rose water she used to freshen up still clung to his dressing gown. Memories of soft lips, how she tasted and the warm wet feeling of her tongue teasing his palm stoked emotions he tried to ignore.

They needed to get back to the TARDIS and everything would be back to normal. But would it? Ignoring that seductive voice within him was growing more difficult. He closed his eyes and breathed out his tension. The problem was he couldn’t erase what happened between them and the heat he felt earlier still simmered. He packed up the device and pocketed his sonic.

Hesitating at the stairs, he was overwhelmed with memories of lying in bed with her, of her caring for him, of her smiling and teasing him and a few brilliant snogs. He leaned against the cool stone wall attempting to tamp down his feelings. It didn’t work. TARDIS or Earth or any other planet, he loved her and he wanted her. He cursed as he fought a battle within himself, a centuries old Time Lord utterly besotted and in love with a nineteen year old human female. 

A smile quirked is face and he gazed upward at the darkened ceiling. Oh what his people would have said if they saw him now. The Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, tamed, defeated and in love with a human. But then he knew she was more than just a typical human. There was something different about her, even his TARDIS acted differently with Rose. It was something that troubled him at first but the more he came to know her and, if honest, love her, the easier it was to ignore. Rose was Rose and that was enough for him.

“Save the world first,” he chastised himself and then silently he thought, “Enjoy quiet time--or bugger that, shagging time with Rose later.”

With a satisfied grin he walked confidently through the kitchen and out into the hall. The house was silent except for the rain. Then he heard a noise that was wrong, a thump, a muffled curse and….Rose.

He charged up the back staircase, his hand reaching for his sonic as he burst into the bedroom. Rose was sitting on chair as a Monosian knelt before her weeping into her lap. She rested one hand comfortingly on his brown downy head. The Doctor stilled, sonic aimed in front of him as he looked from Rose to the weeping Monosian and back to Rose.

“Rose!” he exclaimed.

“Hi, Doctor,” she said as she gazed down in sympathy at the bereft creature still collapsed onto her lap. 

“What?” he asked, seeming at a loss for words.

“We had a misunderstanding but Nigel and me talked it out,” she said, eyeing the Doctor’s sonic. “You gonna put that way before you drive poor Nigel here into a nervous breakdown.”

“Nigel?” he asked in a hard tone before pocketing his sonic, his brow furrowed as he looked at the two before him.

Rose cooed at the quivering down covered humanoid alien. Nigel looked up at her with a face and eyes like lemur. She patted him on his back. “It’s okay, Nigel. We’re gonna help you. I know you didn’t mean it earlier.”

“Mean what?” the Doctor demanded, arms crossed and a glare directed as their alien visitor.

Nigel stood up, straightening his brown leather coat, turning his snout up at the Doctor and baring his teeth.

Rose sighed as she watched the Doctor stand over the much shorter Monosian. She knew this behaviour having witnessed Mickey when some bloke tried to pull her at the pub. Seeing the Doctor act this way was odd. It wasn’t like she’d never witnessed him being protective or even a touch possessive but this took it to a new level. Under different circumstances, she’d have been flattered and teased him over it. But this was no time for a jealous Time Lord snit. And especially given that a little over an hour or so earlier he’d offered to help the Monosians. 

After a few minutes of feeling tension coursing off the Doctor and listening to Nigel’s responding warning growl, she concluded it was up to her to set things right. 

She walked over to the Doctor and squeezed his arm to draw his attention away from the Monosian. “Doctor, everything is fine. Nigel was waiting for me and we had a bit of a misunderstanding at first.”

The Doctor’s eyes glittered with a barely suppressed rage directed at Nigel. “I heard something that sounded like you hitting the floor and cursing,” he said in a tight voice as he loomed over Nigel. In response, Nigel’s small pointed ears quivered.

“Stop it, both of you!” Rose chastised. “Look, Nigel was nervous and desperate. He jumped out on top of me. He thought we had his button key thingy.”

“K’talkmenos,” the Doctor inserted, still aiming the oncoming glare at Nigel.

“Whatever,” Rose said, waving a hand in the air. “The point is that I told him I didn’t but I had an idea where it is but I couldn’t help him if he didn’t calm down and let me up.”

“He held you down on the floor threatening you.” The Doctor’s face flushed and his breathing escalated at his mental image of the Monosian pouncing on Rose.

“He was desperate and afraid. You know what happened to them. They’ve been here for weeks trying to repair their ship to leave and at the same time dealing with the loss of their family. Nigel’s mate died in that crash. They were together six cycles and have young at home. He needs to get back to his babies. So just stop it.”

The Doctor exhaled and his gaze turned to Rose. Some of his outrage ebbed and a smile quirked at his mouth at the sparks of anger and outrage he saw reflected in her eyes. This was his Rose at her finest. She could have been furious at being attacked. But she saw beyond the action to the underlying emotions behind it. Of course she would want to help and feel compassion for these aliens. 

These observations served to emphasize what he was feeling: a burning need to protect her; to possess and love her; and to drive home how much she was his best mate, a partner and so much more that was undefinable by human words. Swallowing hard, he tamped down the emotions driving him to show the Monosian Rose was his and hands off.

“Mistress Rose,” Nigel hissed out as he looked ready to spring at the Doctor.

“It’s all right, Nigel. The Doctor was just worried I was in danger. He wants to help too. Don’t you, Doctor?” she asked with a tone that indicated only one answer was acceptable.

“Course, already got a plan. I just need Nigel and his friend to stay out of sight…and out of our room.”

Rose cocked her head to the side, eyebrows raised at his comment and the emphasis he placed on _our room_.

The Doctor aimed a look at Nigel that left no doubt he was making a point.

Nigel’s ears quivered and he looked at Rose. “Your mate can be trusted?”

Rose blinked a few times at the word mate. She supposed Nigel had picked up the whole married thing from watching them interact with the Hensleys. Or maybe it was the way the Doctor burst into the room sonic out and ready to defend her honour. When she thought about, she felt her cheeks flush and something quivered inside of her. Mate to Nigel meant something intimate. Then again, it was part of their act. Except the Doctor was playing the part a little too well.

Things were escalating between them and she was happy about that. She could just do without the jealous git part of it. 

“Yes, you can trust me,” the Doctor inserted before Rose could answer. “Me and my missus will see to it you can activate your ship and go home. We’re a bit keen to sort this mess out and get back to our own ship. Now it’s been a long night so if you don’t mind…”

Nigel nodded. “By sundown tomorrow or we do what we must.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll sort this. That’s what the Doctor and me do. We’ll meet up in the basement after we have the key,” Rose assured him.

Nigel disappeared in a flash as he activated his perception filter and slipped out the door. Rose turned to the Doctor with a hand on her hip, her dressing gown gaping open revealing the thin white gown beneath. His eyes were drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of skin.

“The missus? And what was that about with the glaring and such?”

The Doctor met her angry gaze and felt something fire up inside of himself. “He could have killed you!”

“Well you weren’t worried about that when you sent me up from the cellar.”

“They were running away and not showing up in our bed chambers attacking you!” His voice was raised and his neck flushed red.

“And I handled it! He was upset and apologizing until you came in here all avenging Time Lord!”

The Doctor scowled and snorted. “Avenging Time Lord.”

Rose clenched her fists and turned away from him toward the bed. She wanted to push this, push him. Then again, what would it gain? Him being stroppy solved nothing. And even if he crossed the line in their relationship, they were still in this house which was not exactly the ideal situation for what she wanted to do. The last thing she wanted was poor Mary walking in on them doing things that might be a bit too wild for this era. Shoulders slumped, she rubbed at her eyes. 

“Well, at least it’s settled for now. We get the key and then we all can leave. Best get some sleep. Probably not much time before everyone’s up.”

Rain pelted the window. Rose’s shoulders slumped. “And we have a bit of a hike in the rain tomorrow.”

“The rain will stop once we get the key plugged in. The weather is a side effect of the Monosians malfunctioning component,” the Doctor explained attempting to ignore their prior disagreement. 

“Fine, whatever. You figure out your science stuff. I’m going to sleep.” Without another word, she shrugged of her dressing gown and crawled under the covers, facing away from him.

The Doctor watched her turn away and something twisted in his gut. They’d started out with a good adventure and a nice snog. Now Rose was being irrational. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced, glancing at the bed every so often. Thunder rumbled and he clenched his jaw in aggravation. 

It was Rose’s sigh and shiver that shook him from his funk. Yes he burst into their room intent on saving her. She had saved herself. He didn’t liked how the Monosian acted, that it was in their bedroom and the how the creature touched her. Part of his anger had been the thought that he should be the only one in this room touching her like he touched her earlier. Of course, he was also the one to pull back. He was an idiot.

Sleep was the last thing he wanted. And yet, he wanted to be with her, curled around her enjoying her warmth. It was amazing how that temptation overruled the itch to go for a wander. Before he knew what he was doing, he was under the covers and looking at her back.

“Rose,” he said in the way that only he could say her name.

“Yeah,” she answered, still not looking at him.

“I wasn’t keen on you being attacked.”

“I got that. But you know they don’t really want to hurt anyone.”

He shifted closer to her. “Yes, but they’re not thinking straight. They shot me.”

“It was an accident.”

“Yes and what if they accidentally hurt you.”

Rose turned over to face him. “But they didn’t.”

“Could have,” the Doctor said and reached over trailing a finger down her braided hair.

“I get it, you know. Why you raced in her sonic blazing.”

His brow furrowed. “Rose, my sonic doesn’t blaze. Might have a combustion setting but it would be dangerous in a house this flammable.”

Rose turned her head into the pillow as a smile emerged. He noticed and leaned down close to her ear. “That’s better. It’s not good for you to go to bed angry.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I wasn’t angry at you trying to protect me. Just that you didn’t trust me.”

“I do trust you! I just didn’t like how he….” He trailed off looking down at the sheets.

Her thumb traced his jawline. “I get it.”

“Do you?” he asked in a deep voice vibrating with a husky quality.

Her breath caught as he stared at her with hunger and lust that left her heated. He held her palm to his cheek before sliding to his lips, laying soft kisses on her fingertips. “I don’t think you do but you will, I promise you.” He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. “Sleep.”

“You want me to sleep after that?” she said in a soft raspy voice.

“Yes, need you in top form for a little button theft and other things that might require a bit of those gymnastic skills and endurance.”

She smiled up at him with a glint her eyes. “Mmmm maybe you should rest up too. Wouldn’t want to put you in another healing coma.”

He leaned in close, his nose bumping the shell of her ear as his breath tickled against her skin. “Superior biology in every way. Now, go to sleep, wife.”

Rose sighed, shifting under the blankets as her body screamed for him to prove it. Instead, she settled for being wrapped up in his arms, listening to the rain and the beat of his hearts.

#

The next morning seemed dull in comparison of the excitement of the prior days. Rose snuggled into the blankets reaching a hand out to find the bed empty. Wincing as she licked her lips, she sat up. The Doctor stood at the window, sonic aimed outside.

“Morning,” she croaked, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room.

The Doctor grunted in response. Frowning at his sonic, he tapped it against his palm.

Rose sniffed and spotted a tray on the side table. “Mary’s been here? What time is it?” This was punctuated with a yawn.

“Half past nine. I went for wander and bumped into her. Told her she might as well as bring us up a tray.”

Rose stood up and put on her dressing gown. “Why didn’t you wake me up instead of terrorizing poor Mary?” She poured herself a cup of tea and bit into a breakfast cake.

“Terrorize,” he said with a snort. “There are worse things than a man in his dressing gown. Like say an alien device about to cause a shift in global weather.”

Rose smiled as she sipped her tea. “Yeah, well not to her. But thanks for breakfast and letting me sleep for a bit. I know you were bored.”

“Busy day ahead of us. We’ve been invited for some social time with our hosts.” This was said with a wince. 

“And that works into our plans because you can pretend to be interested in the horrible weather. Then I’m sure there’s riveting conversation on how Mr. Winston is an important man who must return to London whilst Mr. Hensley mourns the loss of his dogs and Mrs. Hensley shares some bit of gossip all the while they pick at you for information about our adventures in India,” she said with a teasing smile.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should be the one suffering from a headache or a sudden relapse brought on by boring conversation.”

Rose giggled. “Yeah and then you can lay up here whilst they fetch Dr. Clark for a bloodletting.”

“Thanks, think I’ll skip that. We’ll stick with my lovely wife suffering from exhaustion and an unrelenting headache.”

Rose crinkled her nose. “You might as well say I have the vapours being all delicate and the like.”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Mary arrived to check on Rose and help her dress for the day. Rose was sure to put on quite the performance, walking slowly and rubbing her temple, valiantly assuring Mary she would be fine. Dressed in a simple light blue muslin gown with short puffed sleeves, she returned to find the Doctor pacing their quarters. A smile lit her face as she observed him. She would forever burn the image of him in tight black breeches, boots and dark green tail coat into her mind.

Mary slipped out of the room and they discussed their plan. He would leave the sonic with her. At a pre-programmed time, it would emit a burst of energy enhancing electrostatic discharge producing a stunning display of lightening sure to garner the attention of everyone in the house. Once that happened, Rose would use the sonic to track down the key and meet the Doctor in the cellar to complete the repairs of the Monosian device.

Rose could see concern and a slight agitation in the Doctor’s stance as he paced back and forth in front of her.

“I can handle this. It’s just a little snooping. We’ve done it before dozens of time and besides, if they catch me what’s the worse than can happen? They toss us out?”

“Or lock us up and the Monosians get violent,” the Doctor reminded her.

“Well then I won’t get caught,” she said with a bright smile.

The Doctor sat next to her on the bed and handed her the sonic. “I hear wives get sonic privileges.”

“That we do,” she said with a nod.

“Just be careful. I want that and you back in one piece.”

“Doctor, it’s just stealing a button. This is gonna work and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“No wandering off with cheeky Monosians.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Yes, husband.”

“I’m serious.” His hand clasped hers with his thumb caressing the underside of her wrist. Rose leaned over and brushed her lips against his. 

“There’s only one alien I’m leaving with and he’s stuck with me whether he likes it or not.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Trust me, he likes it.”

The storm rumbled in the background as tension curled around them. “You should go,” she said, her voice raspy as her fingers found their way to his cravat, toying with the white silk.

“This isn’t done,” he promised.

“Better not be,” she said in a firm voice.

With a deep inhale of breath he stood up muttering a few curses. He paused at the door. “Don’t forget my coat.”

Rose snorted. “Steal the button, save the world, don’t get caught but most importantly don’t forget the leather coat or it’s the doom of us all,” she said with a touch of sarcasm.

“Rose, it’s my coat.”

“Yeah, yeah, important alien stuff in the pockets. Don’t worry.”

He stepped out with a pointed look at said coat. 

“Probably just bananas,” she muttered while lying back on the bed.

“Bananas are good!” he called back as he walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo it's done! Sorry it too so long but it was the smutting. I tried something different and switched to mainly his POV. If it's not obvious, this is a NSFW chapter. This is the chapter for watch there are warnings. Explicit things follow!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who liked and reviewed. I'm so glad you enjoyed this story. Plots set in a historical era can be a challenge but I like to write them every once in a while. Fair warning, I probably switched POV back and forth a few times so if that bothers you, best skip this. I admit to hating rigid rules regarding POV so I didn't edit it out. I struggle enough with that in my original stuff :( 
> 
> I hope you like the last chapter and again, thank you so much for reading.

The Doctor sat at the small square wooden table in the parlour partnered with his hostess playing a game of Whist against the Winstons. He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently as Mr. Winston dealt him his thirteen cards.

Mrs. Hensley smiled kindly at him whilst her husband sat by the fire examining rain dampened letters he had just received by courier.

“I do hope Mrs. Tyler recovers quickly,” Mrs. Hensley expressed as she contemplated her cards.

“Yes, we all wish her the best and hope she is well enough to attend dinner this evening,” Mrs. Winston added.

“A quick nap and my wife will be right as rain,” the Doctor stated, not looking up from his cards.

“Of course she will,” Mrs. Hensley agreed. “Rarely have a met such a strong soul as your dear Mrs. Tyler.”

“A stout heart and a comely disposition cannot overcome the tribulations of a perilous journey by sea or primitive and ungodly cultures abroad. Much less, when one of the fairer sex must nurture her husband back to health after witnessing a violent attack on his person. It is to her credit she did not collapse sooner,” Mr. Winston drawled.

The Doctor lifted his head, his gaze piercing Mr. Winston. “My wife is no wilting flower, Mr. Winston. And I think you will soon learn that women have far more strength than you give them credit for.”

Mrs. Winston’s eyes widened and she looked quickly down at her cards. Mrs. Hensley was not so demure.

“Your observations are always so fascinating and progressive, Dr. Tyler. But Mr. Winston does make an interesting point. And one that perhaps you should take to heart. We all watched Mrs. Tyler stand strong by your side and fight for your recovery without faltering. One might wonder what would cause her to fall ill now?” She smiled coyly at him.

“It is not uncommon for many a married lady to endure sudden bouts of exhaustion or illness when God has foreseen in his wisdom to bless her with the natural result of a happy marriage,” she added.

The Doctor’s brow furrowed in confusion and once he realized Mrs. Hensley hinted at the possibility of Rose expecting a child, he swallowed hard. His Rose pregnant – he could barely think of it although when he did, something tugged at his heart. But that something was quickly shoved aside as he did his best to ignore the conversation. 

“Oh but that would be such a wonderful outcome,” Mrs. Winston agreed. “After all your travels and with the unfortunate events of late, it would be fitting. You return and God rewards you with a gift of family and an opportunity to build a life in your home country,” Mrs. Winston said, nodding her head and smiling at Mrs. Hensley.

Mr. Winston looked bored at the conversation and revealed one of his cards. The Doctor was at a loss on how to respond to this latest turn in the conversation. Thankfully he was saved when Mr. Hensley revealed the inclement weather extended beyond their small village and there was talk of floods and lost crops.

The women whispered conspiratorially glancing at the Doctor with speculation. Mr. Winston grumbled about how the weather reflected the state of the economy and somehow blaming the French for their predicament.

The Doctor sat silently staring down at the cards spread across the table barely paying attention to the droning conversation or the fire crackling nearby. The women babbled on about children for a marriage that didn’t exist. Children had never been a part of his life. He’d done his duty for his House and Gallifrey and look where he was now – alone except he wasn’t. He had Rose. But it wasn’t like the ladies thought. They were living a lie. 

And yet there was a part of him that revelled in this illusion like some fantasy that was just out of his reach. But was it really? They weren’t married. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy the charade or where it was leading. A smile threatened to emerge as he thought about the more enjoyable aspects of this game of pretend to be married. 

An image of Rose taunted him -- of her smiling face, twirling her long skirts and teasing him; of her pouting when he ended a fantastic snog and of a look of longing. Everything between them had led to this impossible bond growing between them, a bond that transcended beyond their species and any reasons they shouldn’t be together. 

He should be focusing on diverting the attention of the Hensleys and Winstons and yet all he could think about was Rose and how they would soon be out of this house and away from these people with their propriety and stuffy morals. His face flushed as he considered all the things he wanted to do with Rose once out of this constricting environment.

Just as Mr. Winston was rendering another diatribe against foreigners influencing English culture, the sky lit up outside the window and several explosions shook the house. The furniture trembled, glass shattered and the Doctor felt his hair stand on end. 

“Fantastic,” he murmured as the women shouted their dismay and the men stood up, their gazes fixated on the window.

Shouting and pounding footsteps echoed in the house as servants raced downstairs. The butler, out of breath and looking pale entered the room without any formality and made his way to Mr. Hensley who already stood at the window. Mr. Winston and the ladies raced over next to him. The Doctor stood up to join them when he paused. He inhaled deeply and his eyes widened. “No,” he said as he ran to an adjacent window.

The sky crackled with lightening and the wind whipped torrents of rain against the house. 

A panicked voice shouted, “Fire!”

The women gasped and clung to their husbands.

The Doctor’s gaze focused on the door and the stairs beyond as the house fell into chaos.

“We must evacuate immediately,” Mr. Hensley announced with authority. He ordered his butler to fetch coats and blankets and order the servants to leave at once.

The Doctor turned to him as the house groaned and smoke drifted down the stairs.

“I’m going to fetch my wife.”

Mr. Hensley nodded. “I shall come with you.”

“Mr. Hensley,” his wife gasped, tears wetting her eyes.

“No, you see to the evacuation. I’ll fetch Rose,” the Doctor said with assurance. He nodded at the group. “Go, on get yourselves to safety.”

“I’ll see that the carriages are brought around,” Mr. Winston said as he watched the Doctor. 

“You must hurry. My people tell me the roof exploded,” Mr. Hensley said, fear evident in his eyes. “Please take care Dr. Tyler, and may God guide you and Mrs. Tyler to safety.”

“Dr. Tyler,” Mr. Winston said as the Doctor turned to leave, looking for the first time as if he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“No worries, Mr. Winston. Mrs. Tyler and I have been through worse. Now go on, see the ladies to safety.” 

He turned and made his way toward the stairs as smoke thickened and the acrid scent of burning wood surrounded him. Panic made his hearts beat in double time. He wouldn’t lose Rose now, not when things had finally become so clear between them. Blood pounding in his ears, he raced forward the words he longed to tell her on the tip of his tongue. He would find her, tell her, snog her and show her what it was like to be loved completely and unreservedly.

#

Rose waited in her quarters, at first lying on the bed in case anyone stopped by to check on her. Soon she grew restless. Pacing, scratching at her itchy scalp and muttering about a hot shower, she waited for the Doctor’s lightening show to begin. It was as she was digging around in the Doctor’s coat pocket that the room suddenly lit up. The bright flash was followed by a BOOM! The house shook and Rose fell to the floor cursing.

Her hair stood on end and her ears rang from the explosion as she looked toward the window. She heard screaming and people running outside her room. 

With a groan she stood up. “Don’t worry Rose,” she mimicked. “It’ll be a fantastic display of lightening.” She shook her head and dusted off her skirts. “Yeah right. Should have known it would involve something blowing up.”

She grabbed his leather coat and ducked her head outside. The hall was empty except for a layer of smoke. Rose felt her breath catch and tension curled in her stomach at the thought of what that smoke meant. She pulled the Doctor’s coat on, grabbed the sonic and aimed it down the hall following its signal. A panicked voice shouted “Fire” and the smoke grew heavier. She ducked down closer to the floor as her throat began to burn. 

The sound of cracking wood mixed with the rumble of something collapsing. She fell to her knees and crawled toward a door as the sonic led her toward her goal. She hesitated as a wave of heat filled the hall. With the sonic clenched in her hand, she moved into the room which seemed clear from smoke. Shutting the door, she leaned against it coughing and wiping at her tear filled eyes. Her gaze fell on the wardrobe and she climbed up and began scanning the clothing.

She focused on her task and not the sound of glass shattering or groaning beams of wood as the house burned. Glancing once at the window, she saw the rain still poured down. There was no choice. She had to find the key or the weather would continue to worsen, affect history and ultimately the future. It was up to her. With new determination, she faced several suit coats hanging before her. After cursing Mr. Winston’s fashion choices and numerous brass buttons, she found the oddly shaped, engraved button. Ripping it off, she shoved it into the Doctor’s coat pocket, putting it on over her dress and stared at the door.

Smoke billowed in at the bottom of the door. Squeezing her eyes tight, she switched the sonic to torch mode and breathed in deep. “I can do this.”

The moment she opened the door, she was enveloped in choking hot ash and smoke. She fell forward landing on floor and crawled into the hall. Smoke burned her eyes as she felt her way forward heading toward the stairs and hoping they were still in once piece. Coughing and gasping for breath, she didn’t make it far. She reached a hand out against the wall to guide her but felt dizzy and disoriented. Fighting to stay conscious, she heard a voice shouting her name.

“Doctor,” she croaked out, resting her cheek on the wood surface of the floor.

“No!” he shouted and picked her up, pressing his mouth against hers, forcing air into her lungs as he tuggled her down the hall. He pulled away and shook her shoulders. “Look at me!”

Rose smiled as she stared into fierce blue eyes. “What were you thinking? The bloody house is on fire!” he shouted, his voice hitching.

“Get the key, save the world and you know…” she said in a croaking voice and coughed. “Speaking of which, maybe we should--”

“Run,” he finished and pulled her up, covering her head and face with his suit coat and led her through a burning hall with fire raining all around them. They barely made it down the stairs as they collapsed behind them. 

Rose focused on the Doctor, barely aware of what was going on around her until they reached the kitchen and he guided her down the stairs to the cellar. She reached for the sonic and handed it too him. He let loose a string of curses and Rose looked up, wracked by a coughing spell. The engine component was gone.

“They must have panicked,” he muttered, pacing back and forth, his face and clothing blackened by smoke and ash.

“Secret passage,” Rose gasped out.

He stopped and his eyes lit up. “Come on.” His fingers laced with hers as he guided her toward the back of the cellar, shining his sonic along a wall until he found a latch that moved a rack of wine. Behind it was a small crawl space.

Rose winced as he helped her down and into the narrow tunnel which required her to literally crawl on hands and knees. It was a tight squeeze, dark and musty. The Doctor crawled behind her shining the sonic ahead of her but she still couldn’t see more than a few feet in front. She swore she felt something crawl up her arm and squealed.

“Keep going!” the Doctor instructed.

She whimpered and moved forward, cursing old secret tunnels, Regency fashion which did nothing to keep a woman warm and was rubbish for running, along with many other hardships she’d faced the past few days. Her only solace for crawling in a dirty, bug infested tunnel was snogging the Doctor and his promise they’d finish what they started later. She was so going to make him keep that promise.

The end of the tunnel appeared before her like an answer to a prayer. It was wood slats that she shoved with all her might until she tumbled out onto fresh hay. She could hear horses shuffling and whinnying not far from her.

With a groan she rolled to the side just as the Doctor climbed out. 

“You all right?” he asked.

“Ask me after I’ve soaked in nice hot bath for like a year,” she mumbled and spit out whatever dirt and smoke she’d swallowed in their escape. “And maybe some chips.”

The Doctor grinned and then whipped around. “What the hell were you thinking!” he shouted, facing a bale of hay which Rose assumed hid the Monosians.

Two of them shimmered into existence before them. One looked away from her and she knew him to be the one who shot the Doctor.

“It’s all right,” she said and spit off to the side, wiping her mouth. “I’ve got your key. We just want to help and be done with this.”

What followed was Monosians thanking them, crying and the Doctor shouting out orders to them whilst they worked on the device. Rose walked over to the barn doors and leaned outside into the rain to wash off her face and hands. It was icy water but she didn’t care. The shock of it against her ash and sweat covered skin felt good.

She heard shouting in the distance and could still smell smoke. The horses in the barn shifted nervously behind her. She slid the door shut and backed into the barn hoping they were safe for a while. Her skirts, dirty and damp dragged across the dusty floor as she walked up to one of the horses and petted its forehead and muzzle. 

Eventually, she sat on a nearby bench and rested her head against a wood stall almost dozing off until she heard one of the horses kicking at the stall doors. 

“We need to let them out,” the Doctor said, walking up and opening the stall doors, slapping the horses hind quarters as the Monosians opened the barn doors. Rose helped open up the stalls until they emptied the barn.

The Monosians inclined their heads and scurried off after the horses. Walking up to her, the Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her into his side. She rested her head against him.

“Will they be all right?”

“Should be. The storm’s subsiding and the repairs are solid. They don’t exactly want to spend any more time around here.”

“Yeah, I understand that. What about the Hensleys and the Winstons?”

The Doctor snorted. “They have a house fire to sort not to mention we just emptied their barn of horses. Although, they’ll probably shove it off on their servants and high tail it back to London where they can garner sympathy and tell a tale of robbery, mysterious strangers and their doomed country home.”

Rose smiled and looked up at him. “Mmmm won’t they come looking for us? I mean for all they know we burned up in the house.”

He shrugged. “Could do, but they won’t find anything now will they?”

“Mysterious travellers disappear in house fire. Sounds like a headline,” she agreed, bumping her head against him.

He stared down at her and suddenly turned her around toward an open stall. “Seems like the world is safe, and the Monosians are on their way home.”

Rose rested her hands on his hips, her fingers sliding over the cotton fabric of his breeches. “Yeah, guess we can be on our way too.”

He stepped closer to her. “I seem to recall, I made a promise to finish what we started. Maybe I should make good on that.”

Rose felt her heart pound even harder than it had during their escape from the fire. Her breath caught at the intensity in his eyes. One of his hands cupped her cheek whilst the other rested on her hip to hold her steady.

“I could have lost you today.”

“But you didn’t. You found me,” she said in a breathy voice, feeling the tension curling between them and heating her skin. His jaw clenched and his whole body was taut as if he was holding back. A smile lit her face. Still the same Doctor. She wiped a bit of soot off his cheek her fingers lingering along his face.

“Rose, I don’t want to wait any more.” His voice was gruff and desperate. 

She shivered in response. “Neither do I,” she said emotionally as everything they’d been through the last few days, worrying about his injury, the pressure of keeping up the image of a regency marriage, the weather and helping the Monosians, all bubbled up. Her fingers dug into his smoke blackened shirt as she pulled him closer. 

The Doctor moaned as his lips met hers, angling his head as he pushed her backward against the wooden post of the stall. All thoughts of soft and tender evaporated at the first swipe of her tongue and soft gasp of her warm breath. Teeth clashed as his arms tightened around her desperate to feel her body against his. She smelled of smoke, rose water and a tang he associated with hormones.

Her tongue slid against his and the taste of her burst in his mouth, sweet and salty. His senses memorized everything about her and this moment. How her hands slid up his back and her nails grazed the hairline on his neck. Each time she nipped at his bottom lip he quivered internally. Even though wrapped in period costume, he could feel her breasts against his chest and yearned to taste them and feel the soft mounds of flesh in his hands.

His own body thrummed with want, blood racing, breathing elevated and temperature rising by at least one point three degrees. Each change was identified and catalogued. There was one surprise – his time sense. Time lines vibrated in an unusual way that he found oddly stimulating. A hundred different potential time lines burst forth the moment their lips touched. 

It threw him off balance and he revelled in it. Combined with his own lust and desire for her, he felt giddy as if he drank an entire bottle of five hundred year old Gallifreyan Brandy. And still he wanted more, needed to feel her skin against his own. With that thought and one of her hands trailing down his back grabbing his arse, he quickly walked her backwards into the hay lined stall.

They pulled apart with a wet pop and Rose breathing heavy. Her eyes dilated, she blinked a few times and looked down at the fresh hay around them before tilting her head and eyeing him. 

He gently trailed fingers down her exposed neck and along the edge of her bodice. “No more waiting. You think I’m gonna chance us walking back to the TARDIS with our record?”

Rose felt giggles shaking her chest and bent over laughing. When she looked back at him, he was smiling but there was a gleam in his eyes that made her shiver. He wasn’t toying with her. She licked her lips and arched a brow at him. “Here in the hay with me all manky?”

He slid his leather coat from her shoulders and tossed it onto the hay. “Nothing wrong with fresh hay and I don’t mind a little essence of human. Growing a bit fond of it, I am.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Essence of human? Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Essence of Rose, nothing like it in all the universe.”

He swept her up and laid her on silken lining of his coat. Kneeling beside her, he unbuttoned his waist coat and tossed it aside and untucked his starched white shirt, his cravat lost somewhere in between running from the fire and crawling through a tunnel. Rose’s gaze focused on the tempting bit of neck set off by the smoke stained shirt.

She looked down at her dress which was equally stained and ripped in places before her gaze met his again.

“Rose.” He growled her name. He leaned closer planting his hands in the hay on either side of her as she lay back watching him. “Tell me you want this too.”

“I do, I want you, have wanted you for a long time now,” she said in a husky voice. 

She ran a hand down his lower abdomen her fingers tracing the bulge in his trousers. She popped a button on the flap of fabric now straining revealing his underwear beneath. Tracing a finger along his white cotton encased length, she heard him gasp and his eyes slammed shut.

She bit her lip as she watched his body tense and his hands clench into the hay. It was empowering. He was like this because of her and she relished it feeling heat flare between her thighs. The sound of the storm, of horses running outside, of the scent of hay or smoke all dimmed as she focused on him and what built between them. She dipped her fingers beneath his under drawers until she firmly grasped his length.

As she freed him, his eyes shot open. Her thumb trailed along the underside of his erection as she stared into his eyes, issuing an unsaid challenge. 

She arched an eyebrow at him. He grabbed her wrist stilling her hand and clever fingers. Her gaze lowered as she felt him hard and ready within her grasp. Her finger traced the warm skin of his length as she bit her lip and contemplated his appearance.

“Problem?” he asked in a deep voice as his breath hitched at her light caresses.

“You look…so normal, so human.”

“No, you look Time Lord, at least on the outside.”

She looked up with a sexy smirk. “Mmm and how will you feel on my inside?”

He shot forward his mouth captured her own settling against her as he tugged at her long skirts. Rose arched up against him slipping her hands beneath his shirt, her nails grazing the skin of his back. 

Feeling his hand sliding up along her stocking covered legs, his fingers ghosting across her inner thighs left her moaning and wanting more. Her legs parted for him as he trailed kisses down her neck nipping and sucking at her.

Frustrated by all the clothing still between them she arched up again and dug her nails into his hair. “Doctor, need you,” she gasped.

“Bit busy,” he muttered. 

She heard a rip of fabric as he her bodice was torn and felt his hot breath against her skin. “Rose,” he groaned as he latched onto one of her rosy tipped breasts, his erection tantalizing close to where she wanted him. 

She shifted under him wrapping her legs around his hips her slippers falling off in the process. Trying to get friction, her heals pressed against his bum. He moaned into her breast, the vibrations sparking her own desperate whimpers. She needed to feel more of him. A lust induced fog consumed her spurred on by his teeth grazing her breast, the sounds he made against her skin, the taste of him still on her tongue combined with the slickness between her thighs.

She cursed all their layers of clothing -- the bunched up dress around her waist and the breeches cover his bum that she just wanted to grab and dig her nails into. He paused and met her gaze.

As much as he wanted him to bury himself in her, he wanted to feel her all around him. The taste of her infused with hormones and something that was just her tantalized his senses. But he still needed more. 

A small voice at the back of his mind chastised him for giving in to his baser instincts. One look at her blown pupils and feeling the wet heat between her thighs and that voice was shoved to the back of his mind. It was primitive, this want, his desire to possess her. It prickled down his spine causing his muscles to tense like a predator about to pounce. Except Rose wasn’t some prey about to be devoured.

She meant more to him than a quick shag. He wanted to wrap himself around her, feel her in the most intimate of ways. The thrumming beat of her heart, how she arched into him and how her fingers nails bit into his skin all signalled she wanted to complete this thing between them as much as he did. But he had to know she accepted him, all of him and every way.

He inhaled deeply and lay butterfly kisses across her bared breasts crawling his way up her body, one hand sliding up her thigh, his fingers tangling in her curls, dipping into her slick folds. A cocktail of hormones flushed through his system in response to each breathy gasp and the warm, wet feeling of her as he slid his fingers in slow movements probing and testing.

“Rose,” he murmured into her neck, nipping her lightly. “I need to be inside you.”

“God yes!” she responded, wetting her lips looking down at him with hooded eyes.

He lifted his head, eyes dark and intense. “No, I mean I want to share with you, up here.” He tapped her temple.

She stared at him and he felt a tension of rejection coiling inside of him and that nasty little voice of doubt picking at the back of his mind.

“We’d be inside each other’s head like the TARDIS?”

He smiled at her question. “Sort of only it’s more emotional and sensory.” 

Her lips parted and eyes darkened. “You’d feel everything I do?” 

His answer was a slow seductive smile.

Nodding her head, a tongue touched smile lit her face. She slid a hand beneath his shirt and trailed her fingers down his spine. “You’d feel it when I come?”

Hearts beating out double time, his toes curled in his boots. “Yes.”

Nails biting into his skin, she encouraged him to close the distance between them and bumped her nose against his. “I want all of you.”

No other encouragement was required. He slammed his mouth against hers, pulling her up off his coat and shifted her so that his erection rubbed against her wet heat, settling at her entrance. Rose groaned as two of his fingers lightly touched her temple. 

Old memories reared up haunting him and reminding him how damaged he was. A fierce inner battle raged inside of him matching the lust that consumed him. He shouldn’t do this, expose her to the darkness and death that lay within. 

Memories of her bravery in the face of his mortal enemy; how she not only faced down a dalek but tamped down her own anguish and loss to be there for her dying father, firmed his resolve. The darkness would always be there lurking inside of him but Rose had proven that there could be life as well.

Immersed in memories of her smile, bone crushing hugs and laughter, he slipped into her mind. Tears pricked his eyes at the warmth and love he felt. It was too much but before he could pull away, she was there holding him. She hid nothing from him -- annoyance at his risk taking, heart breaking worry and fear of losing him or causing harm to the time line; fierce devotion to him and something so mind boggling he could barely accept it -- love that burned with the intensity of a dozen stars. 

His feelings were reflected in her. Her voice whispered through his mind like silken ribbons caressing him. It had been so long since he’d been connected with another mind, even a human one. Immersed in the sensation of being so intimately joined, he almost lost his way. Except his cheeky Rose hadn’t forgotten what they were doing as she arched up against him and dug her heals into this bum with cheeky thoughts of all the things she wanted to do with him.

He parted his lips from hers, eyes shut tight and paused, regaining his focus. Leaning down, he nuzzled his face into her neck and sheathed himself within her. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at being so enveloped in everything Rose. He nipped at her neck as he thrust deeper reveling in her gasps and how her nails bit into his back.

The warmth of her, the slickness and how he filled her combined with how they telepathically shared tiny explosions of sensation tested his control. Analysis was set aside as he fell into the sheer physical pleasure of sex with Rose. They moved together, him thrusting and her arching up, meeting him, whispering filthy encouragements: _more, harder, yes like that._

Hearts raced as sweat slicked skin slapped as they moved closer and closer to completion. Rose bit his shoulder as he felt her muscles flutter and clench. It was as if the fire that raged through the house, burned in them until suddenly they were consumed and in one final thrust, his mind exploded with colours and Rose screaming his name and her love for him.

Nothing had prepared him for the intensity of emotions and the physical release as his body shuddered and collapsed. Panting against her neck, he raised his head to assure himself she was there and unharmed and that this wasn’t all some fantasy he’d had whilst making repairs on the TARDIS.

Rose lay beneath him, a soft smile and glow on her face. Their gazes met and she drew circles on his back with her index finger. 

He laid a gentle kiss on her temple murmuring his love for her.

“That was fantastic,” she said and rolled her head to the side.

“Of course, Time Lord me! Superior biology and well…everything!”

She snorted and shoved his shoulder rolling him off and turned to face him. “You know, I was there too.”

“Yes, you were. In fact, you were everywhere and every when. Just about blew my time sense you did. Cheeky minx!” He tugged at a loose strand of her hair.

She rested her cheek on her shoulder and traced the shell of his ear with her fingers as he skimmed her curves, resting his hand on her hip. “Yeah, we were pretty amazing.” She paused and bit her lip. “So what’s next?”

“Back to the TARDIS and onto the next adventure.”

She stared at the bit of chest revealed as his shirt gaped and stilled her hand. “Yeah, sure, sounds great. Long walk I guess.” She ran her stocking covered foot up his leg.

“Rose, look at me,” he commanded softly.

He tilted her head up and met warm blue eyes. “I don’t do this. Haven’t done this with anyone in centuries.”

Rose looked away. He tilted her chin back to face him. “I’m telling you this so you know this is important – you’re important to me. I love you but if this isn’t what you want, I won’t force it.”

Before he could continue, she launched herself at him and after one long, passionate snog she pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Of course I want it. I love you, all of you even the arrogant Time Lord bits.”

An enormous smile lit his face and his eyes sparkled with something Rose hadn’t seen often in him – joy and happiness.

She smiled just as brightly back at him. “Besides, I got used to this whole Missus thing and especially the perks.” She tilted her head to the side with a tongue teasing smile.

“Like the perks do you? All of time and space, impressive pilot and magnificent time machine.”

She giggled. “Well, I was thinking of some the recent perks. Although…” She winced and pulled a lump of hay out from under her, tossing it to the said. “Maybe we could try something a bit softer next time.” She looked up at him. “I mean will there be a next time?” 

He leaned over, brushed his lips against hers and growled. “You can count on it, Mrs. Tyler.”

The sound of a barn door flying open startled them. Rose shoved her skirts down and curled up closer to the Doctor. 

A male voice called out, “Anyone about?” There was the sound of scuffed boots on the ground and a man walked into a tack room not far from them.

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other and grinned. “Run!” he said. 

Grabbing her hand, wrapping his coat around her as they dashed out of the barn and into the nearby woods, they disappeared into the thick mist mixed with smoke, laughing and giggling as they made their way back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor ended up carrying Rose most of the way, not that he minded and once inside, they TARDIS didn’t move for another few days. Time lines settled in around them as Earth history adjusted, tantalizing any who sought out the mysterious tale of the Doctor and Rose Tyler, the stuff of legends.


End file.
